What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?
by Gmariam
Summary: When Torchwood keeps two of its own from celebrating Christmas, the others make sure the New Year is one to remember. (A holiday tale a bit late on the posting, but it was busy for me too—time travel, aliens, just the usual.)
1. I'll Be Home For Christmas

I. I'll Be Home For Christmas (Alone)

It had been just about the worst December ever, which was certainly saying something, given that Ianto had worked for Torchwood for several years now and had experienced more than one strange and unusual Christmas.

The Rift had been cruel, running them ragged chasing after aliens, space junk, and another sad resident for Flat Holm for almost seventy-two hours straight. With a mere eighteen-hour respite predicted for Christmas, Jack finally sent the team home late Christmas Eve. Gwen kissed him on the cheek and practically ran out the door. Both Tosh and Owen offered to stay, but Jack insisted they leave, telling them there was nothing for them to do anyway, so they could at least get some rest for whatever the Rift threw at them next. Owen snorted, since he did not sleep anymore, and Ianto couldn't help but feel somewhat sorry for him.

To his surprise, however, Owen turned and offered Tosh his arm, suggesting they head to a nearby pub where she could get a drink while he accompanied her. She accepted with a smile, and Ianto watched them leave, glad they were not spending the night alone.

"You should go too, see your family," said Jack, throwing himself down on the sofa and letting his head fall back. Ianto crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against a nearby column, watching Jack with a slight twinge of concern; it was not often that Jack let exhaustion get to him. He wondered something else was bothering Jack, though he doubted he'd ever find out.

"That's tomorrow," Ianto finally replied, somewhat dreading Christmas at his sister's house. It was crowded and noisy, and he always had a hard time dealing with questions he couldn't answer and teasing he had only half a heart to return. He hadn't even gone last year, owing to Lisa's death; he couldn't bear their pity and had spent the day alone in his flat until he'd called Tosh to come over for an improvised dinner, a bit too much wine, and some much needed laughter.

"I'm happy to stay if you need anything," he added.

Jack nodded in understanding and motioned for Ianto to join him on the sofa. Ianto raised an eyebrow and sat down next to him, sinking wearily into the sofa's cushions; three days of non-stop Rift wrangling was exhausting.

"I gave up on Christmas a long time ago," Jack said softly. "You shouldn't. Go home, get some sleep, and I'll try not to bother you if anything comes up."

"I don't mind—" Ianto started, but Jack shook his head.

"You deserve a normal holiday," Jack interrupted.

"Torchwood doesn't do normal," Ianto murmured, and he caught Jack rolling his eyes.

"Then you deserve a break before our normal kicks back in."

"Is that a break from you or from Torchwood?" Ianto asked innocently. This time Jack offered a small smile in response.

"Both, I suppose. Take it when you can get it, as they say."

Ianto was silent. He didn't particularly want to spend the night alone, but he almost felt as if he was being dismissed. Maybe this was Jack's way of saying he needed a break himself, as unusual as that was. It was understandable, considering just how hectic their schedule had been and how much time they had been spending together. So Ianto tried not to take it personally, but found he wasn't sure how to leave, given Jack's mood: a hug, a kiss, a quick shag on the sofa? Finally he just nodded and stood up, trying not to groan as weary muscles protested.

"Happy Christmas, Jack," he said, and Jack glanced up at him, exhaustion and sadness written plainly now across his face.

"Happy Christmas, Ianto," he replied. He seemed about to say something more, but stopped, so Ianto pushed him, knowing Jack would never say it otherwise.

"Was there anything else?" he asked directly yet gently. Jack stood with him, hands tucked awkwardly in his pockets.

"Can I come 'round yours tomorrow?" he asked, not really meeting Ianto's eyes, as if he were embarrassed to even ask. "Maybe in the morning sometime?"

Ianto smiled and stepped closer to finally kiss him. "You're always welcome, Jack. You don't even have to ask. Just ring me first so I can get rid of my score."

Jack's eyes went wide for a moment, until he understood that Ianto was joking. Then he growled and pulled Ianto close for a longer kiss that was impossible to resist.

"Sure you don't want to come back now?" Ianto breathed when they pulled apart. Jack laid his forehead against Ianto's.

"It's tempting, but I'm really used to spending Christmas alone," he murmured.

"You don't have to," Ianto said, once again feeling Jack's deep sorrow—not to mention the man's solid stubbornness.

"It's better this way," Jack said, stepping back. He kissed Ianto on the cheek this time. "Besides, I want to see what happens in London this year; apparently they've all left the city. So go, before I change my mind."

"Call me if anything comes up," Ianto said. As an afterthought, he let his gaze travel down Jack's trousers and winked. "And I don't just mean Weevils."

Jack laughed for the first time all day and pushed Ianto toward the door. "I will, I promise. And I'll see you in the morning."

"All right, Jack, all right." Ianto laughed as well, though he was still disappointed to be leaving alone. "We said no gifts, though, right?"

"I haven't had time to go shopping even we had decided to exchange something," Jack admitted sheepishly.

Ianto nodded in agreement. "Me neither. I'm glad I ordered David and Mica's gifts online. I wouldn't have anything otherwise."

"It's been a long few days," Jack murmured, stifling a yawn.

"It's been a long month," Ianto replied. "Are you sure you don't want to spend the night? Real bed, real food, real Christmas tree?" He was hoping Jack would change his mind, though he knew how unlikely it was once Jack had made a decision. Jack laughed once more as he light-heartedly pushed Ianto toward the door.

"Stop asking. I'll be fine. Get some rest, we all need it."

Ianto held back a sigh. "I know, and I will. Have a good night, Jack."

"You too," said Jack. Ianto was almost to the cog door, about to head up to the tourist office for his coat and gloves, when Jack called out. "Ianto?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the invitation," he said softly.

"You should take me up on it," Ianto replied, holding Jack's gaze. The other man closed his eyes before opening them with another sad smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Ianto."

"Good night, Jack."

With a sigh, Ianto left the hub. He'd be home for Christmas, but unfortunately, he would be alone.

* * *

Author's Note:

I started this before the holidays, but with so much traveling, I never had a chance to finish it. You have no idea how much it bugs me to not post a Christmas/New Year's story on Christmas or New Year's. Never-the-less, I am going to post it because who knows what next Christmas will bring? I hope you enjoy this better-late-than-never tale of Jack and Ianto's first real (and only) Christmas together. Thanks for reading and Blwyddyn Newydd Dda! Happy New Year!


	2. We Three Kings

II. We Three Kings (or Weevils)

Jack wasn't sure why he hadn't taken Ianto up on his offer to either stay at the Hub together or go back to Ianto's flat. Both had been so tempting, exactly what he wanted, and yet at the same time he felt…well, intrusive. Presumptuous. It was Christmas, and Jack wasn't going to assume that Ianto actually wanted to spend it with him, as opposed to feeling obligated to ask. Assuming any such thing that meant something Jack wasn't quite prepared to get into, yet alone at Christmas.

So he watched Ianto leave and sank back down on the couch with a sigh. Sometimes he really hated Christmas. There had been years when he had been perfectly happy to spend it alone, as well as years where he had spent it with someone he truly cared about. And there had been years where he had spent it working, chasing down aliens for Torchwood because Torchwood was, in the end, the only real constant in his life. People came and went; Torchwood had been with him for over a hundred years.

Then there was this year: he didn't have to work, and he could be spending the holiday with someone he cared about, only he wouldn't let himself admit that he cared more than he probably should, and therefore he would spend it alone at work. Sometimes Jack had to admit even his line of reasoning didn't make sense. He tried to live in the present, but too often the past held him back and the future terrified him.

He sat there for a while, trying to decide whether to change his mind and call Ianto, or if he should just wait until the next morning to see him as planned. Yet what would he say then? It could be just as awkward as heading to Ianto's flat that night. They had somehow—in spite of a distinct lack of discussion about 'them'—agreed to not exchange gifts, so Jack had nothing to offer if he went over to Ianto's flat Christmas morning, and he suddenly hated that they had decided to do it that way. Maybe he would call and see if Ianto wouldn't mind having him over tomorrow night instead so that they could catch up on the day and skip the awkward Christmas morning stuff. Maybe Ianto would even tell him more about his family and his life, something he rarely talked about; in a very deep, private place where Jack tried not to look, a part of him was envious and wished he could join Ianto, even knowing how much the man dreaded spending the day with his family. At least he had one.

Seeing Ianto later in the day sounded like a good plan, and with his mind somewhat settled, Jack headed to his office. Glancing around the empty hub, he smiled to himself. He had a good team; they deserved Christmas off, and so did he, even if he was alone. He was used to it, after all. So he ignored the paperwork piled up on his desk, poured himself a drink, and headed down to his room, where he decided he would read a bit before trying to sleep. If he couldn't sleep, he'd go climb a roof and see if he couldn't follow what alien mishap befell London that year—or perhaps he'd track Santa's sleigh instead.

The latter thought made him chuckle as he settled down into a chair, scotch in hand and a battered copy of Charles Dickens ready. He sighed, knowing the sense of contentment he felt was slightly forced and marred by a loneliness that he could only hope would go away the next day when he saw Ianto. Settling in, he sipped at his scotch, let his mind wander as he read, and checked the news, before finally laying down for a while, knowing full well he'd be up in a few hours because his mind was just too busy to relax. And something was bound to go down in London.

When he did wake up, it was to a shrill beeping from upstairs. One of the computers was signalling a problem—in Cardiff, and on Christmas Eve. With a sigh he wiped the sleep from his eyes and bolted upstairs. Pulling it up on the computer in his office, Jack found a trio of Weevils wandering around Victoria Park. His first thought was that it was not far from where Ianto lived; his second was that it was two in the morning and Ianto was surely asleep; and his third thought was that Ianto had said to call him if anything came up. Jack didn't exactly relish the thought of tracking down several Weevils on his own, nor did he want to wake Ianto after such a hard month. Yet the selfish part of him wanted to call Ianto just to see him again. Weevil hunting usually ended up with one or both of them dirty and naked in the shower, and he couldn't think of a better way to spend Christmas Eve.

Ianto answered his mobile quickly, but with an obviously disguised yawn.

"Were you asleep or are were you actually waiting for me to call you?" Jack teased. He could imagine Ianto huffing on the other end of the line.

"I was asleep, yes. But I seem to have fallen asleep on the couch with a cold cup of cocoa and a crick in my neck," said Ianto, sounding more alert. "Besides, it's not morning yet, why are you calling? Has something come up?"

"Weevil trio in the park," said Jack cheerfully. "Care to join me before they attack any reindeer?"

Again he could almost picture Ianto rolling his eyes. "Can't have Father Christmas stranded in Cardiff, can we? I'll meet you there."

"No, I'll pick you up," said Jack, throwing on his coat and strapping his Webley in place. "I don't want you trying to take down all three on your own."

"I'll leave you one then," said Ianto, and Jack laughed.

"No, we'll work them together, like always. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Brilliant. We're actually hunting Weevils on Christmas. Doesn't get much better than that."

"Could be worse," said Jack as he left the Hub and hurried toward the SUV. "You could still be snoring into your cocoa."

"I wasn't snoring," said Ianto.

"Doubt it," replied Jack. "Especially if you kipped off on the couch."

"Yes, well if a man snores in his living room but there's no one around to hear it, does he really make any sound?" asked Ianto. Jack could hear the other man moving around his flat, likely cleaning up and getting dressed. He wished he'd gone home with Ianto. He could have been lying there with him, watching old holiday movies and drinking hot cocoa. Instead he'd dozed off at work by himself and was now heading out to chase aliens in the middle of the night. What a Christmas.

"I don't know. That's a good question for Tosh, though," he said with a laugh, the banter lightening his mood. "She could run probably run some tests."

"Not on me!" exclaimed Ianto.

"Well, I don't snore," said Jack.

"You do so," said Ianto.

"Do not," said Jack.

"I'm hanging up," said Ianto. "See you in a few."

Jack laughed as he disconnected the call. He was feeling strangely eager about chasing Weevils on Christmas Eve, even though he knew that logically it was a ridiculous thing. He also felt guilty for calling Ianto, though he sensed Ianto hadn't really minded. Maybe Jack would get to spend the night with him after all… and that's what he was really looking forward to, if he admitted it.

Turning on the radio to check for news, Jack was not surprised to hear reports of a giant spaceship heading toward Buckingham Palace. He shook his head, knowing the Doctor was likely there to stop it, only vaguely wishing he could be there as well. He had made his choice and had not regretted a thing since he had returned: he belonged at Torchwood. And he was saving Christmas too, just in a slightly more mundane way.

Ianto was waiting outside his flat when Jack pulled up. "You're not going to invite me in for a drink?" he teased as Ianto climbed into the passenger door. He was wearing jeans and a jumper under his wool short coat, as well as gloves and a sharp scarf. He looked young and attractive, as well as unusually awake and glad to be there, which Jack felt another stab of guilt for: Ianto should be in bed, resting after a hard week of work. Or he should be with his family, perhaps even a wife and children, looking forward to opening the packages under the tree on Christmas morning. Staring at Ianto as strange images of the Welshman surrounded by screaming, laughing children floated through his mind, Jack shook his head as he pulled away and headed toward the park. Ianto had offered to spend the night with him, offered to help if anything happened, offered so much more…why then did Jack always feel so guilty about it?

They reached the park quickly and set out with torches lit. Naturally it was completely quiet and empty, at least until they heard the first tell tale signs of several Weevils grunting and growling. Apparently the three wanderers were not getting along that Christmas—they were clawing at one another viciously in a clearing, as if fighting over something.

Ianto gave Jack a questioning look, and Jack shook his head; he'd rarely seen Weevils fight like that. Maybe they didn't like Christmas. Motioning at Ianto to circle around, he double checked his Webley, but pulled the stun gun from his coat pocket. A quick look around confirmed these were the only three Weevils in the area, and that Ianto was now directly opposite him, ready and in position.

Jack stepped forward and whistled loudly, interrupting the strange fight. The three Weevils turned immediately toward him, hissing and spitting; one of them dropped something shiny and gold.

"What, no Christmas spirit?" he called. He saw Ianto sneaking up on them, stun gun raised and a look of exasperated concentration on his face. Jack grinned; he couldn't help it, he was out on Christmas Eve hunting Weevils with Ianto Jones. As far as he was concerned, it really didn't get much better. At least, not until later.

"Santa not bring you your favourite toy?" he added, keeping a close eye on both the Weevils and Ianto. Ianto finally gave a small nod, and Jack signalled back. "Sorry about that, but your holiday is about to get even worse."

Ianto stepped up and stunned the closest of the Weevils, dropping it to the ground immediately. The other two whirled on him, and he stepped back, gun still raised, as Jack took down one of them from behind. The third one, however, sensing it was now trapped between them, decided to attack rather than run. And it whirled on Jack instead of Ianto, with a sudden burst of speed that was all but unavoidable.

The snarling creature slammed into him and they fell backwards, a jumble of arms and legs and very sharp teeth. And yet it wasn't the teeth that did him in, not this time: Jack hit his head on a large rock and felt the world explode into light, and then the darkness began to surround him, just like it always did when he was fatally wounded.

His last thought was that Christmas was a hell of a day to die—and that Ianto had better survive it to celebrate properly instead of watching over his dead arse.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Well, of course Jack dies on Christmas, how could I not go there? I'm not trying to reinvent the wheel or anything, I leave that to better authors. This is just me and my belated Christmas spirit having free reign over my favourite couple. And I do hope you enjoy, because there is a point to it all. I think.


	3. All I Want For Christmas

III. All I Want For Christmas (Is Not a Dead Boss)

If Ianto had begun to nurse the smallest dislike for Christmas before Jack had called him out to chase Weevils, he was fairly certain that by the end of the night it he'd loathe the damn holiday.

It hadn't always been that way. As a child, he'd liked it as much as the next kid, although it had always been a bit forced in his family. As a teenager, it had been excruciating, but once he'd left for university and lost himself in all sorts of other activities, it hadn't been so bad. Well, there had been the one Boxing Day when he'd woken up next to a total stranger after a long night of post-Christmas partying, but as they had both shrugged it off and moved on, he didn't dwell on it much. Youthful indiscretions and all that.

Christmas had become something he truly enjoyed, something special, after he'd met Lisa. They'd had two amazing holidays together, and then it had all been lost. He'd spent the previous year mourning his loss and wondering if he'd ever want to celebrate again until Tosh had come over and they'd made the most of it together. Yet this year he was spending Christmas Eve with his dead boss and three unconscious aliens in a cold park in the middle of the night.

Sometimes Ianto didn't know whether to laugh or cry: his life was just that ridiculous.

Fortunately, Jack's head wound, though instantly fatal, did not take very long to heal. With an unusually deep gasp bordering on a shout, Jack flailed back to life, his eyes wide in panic. Ianto had not seen him revive quite this intensely before and wasn't sure how to react. His instinct took over, however, and he wrapped his arms around Jack, tight but not restricting, his head at Jack's shoulder as he whispered mindless words of comfort in Jack's ear. Gradually he felt Jack's breathing settle and his muscles relax, until finally Jack nodded, and Ianto loosened his hold. Jack turned around and wrapped his arms around Ianto in a fierce hug.

"Are you all right?" he demanded when he pulled back. Ianto nodded wordlessly, somewhat shocked at Jack's reaction. After a short chase, Ianto had managed to stun the last Weevil, although not before it had got in a good swipe at his face. A long scratch ran down from his temple to his neck. It was not deep, but it stung; it probably looked far worse than it was. Jack's hand came up to cup his face and inadvertently brushed against it, causing Ianto to inhale sharply. Jack turned Ianto's head to see better in the dim light of the streetlamps and swore. Then he apologized.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have called you."

Ianto shook his head as he helped Jack stand. "Of course you should have, I told you to. And I'm fine, you're fine, the Weevils are fine. Happy Christmas." He didn't mean to sound bitter, and didn't really think he did, but Jack just stood there, looking desperately unhappy.

"I should have handled it on my own, waited to call you tomorrow." He reached out toward Ianto's face but let his hand drop. "Now you have to see your family with that."

Ianto picked up a Weevil and began to drag it toward the SUV. "It's no problem. I'll just stay home."

Jack was following him with another alien, but stopped at his words. "No! Ianto, you have to go. You didn't go last year. They'll be expecting you."

"It's not a big deal," Ianto said. It was and it wasn't. A part of him wanted to see Rhiannon and the kids, but another part didn't, because he dreaded what Johnny would say about his face, among other things. A part of him wanted to stay with Jack, and then there was an even smaller part, one he tried to keep locked up and silent, that wanted to ask Jack to come with him and spend the holiday together, but he knew the answer to that question. Meeting the family at Christmas? People only did that in relationships—serious relationships. He and Jack had some sort of relationship, yes, but neither of them considered it serious, certainly not serious enough to spend Christmas together with Ianto's family. They agreed on something like that without it being said. They weren't even exchanging gifts, though that was something Ianto regretted more and more.

"Ianto, it's a big deal to me," said Jack as they heaved the Weevils into the back of the SUV. "I want you to go, to stay in touch with them. Family is important. You can't keep backing out, especially not because of—"

"Because of what?" asked Ianto, curious as to what Jack was thinking, who or what he would blame for Ianto's choices.

"Because of Torchwood. Don't let it take over, don't let it ruin your life."

They headed back for the third Weevil and lugged it over together. The shiny gold object the aliens had been fighting over was some sort of Christmas tree ornament, probably nicked from someone's outdoor tree. Apparently these Weevils liked it enough to kill for it.

"You sound like you're lecturing Gwen," Ianto said, slightly breathless. "I'm not Gwen. I don't have a normal life outside of Torchwood." Jack opened his mouth to protest. "And that's all right. I don't want it, Jack. I chose this life."

And Jack's mouth slammed shut.

"Keys," said Ianto. "I'm driving, and after we drop off the Weevils, we're going back to my place." Jack tossed him the keys and slid almost meekly into the passenger side of the SUV.

"I don't want to ruin your Christmas," Jack muttered.

"It's already ruined," Ianto replied with a teasing tone that unfortunately Jack seemed to miss, because his shoulders slumped even more. "I'm kidding, Jack. I'm glad you called. I wouldn't want you to do this alone."

"I've done it before," Jack said, staring out the window.

"Yes, but if you're going to die doing it, I'd rather be there with you." Ianto kept his eyes on the road, but could feel Jack's thoughtful gaze turn toward him.

"Why?" asked Jack.

"Because you shouldn't have to die alone," said Ianto with as casual a shrug as he could manage. It was only half the truth, but hell if he was going to bare it all right then. If Jack could have his secrets, then so could Ianto. He smiled sideways at Jack to soften his words. "Even if you do have the stubborn habit of coming back."

Jack kept staring at him, but Ianto returned his gaze to the road. Finally Jack turned back to the window.

"I like it," he said so softly that Ianto could barely hear him.

"You like dying?" he asked somewhat incredulously.

Jack laughed bitterly. "Ah, no. Not that. Coming back with someone nearby. With you." Now it was his turn to give Ianto a sideways smile. He also reached over and took Ianto's hand from the steering wheel. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ianto said, squeezing Jack's hand.

"But you should still go to your sister's tomorrow," Jack continued.

"It's later today now," corrected Ianto. "And tell her what? That a rabid alien came through a rift in time and space and I had to stop it with my face?"

Jack laughed, which made Ianto feel better about the entire situation. It was rather ridiculous when he put that way. They joked about it most of the drive back to the hub, hysterical laughter bubbling forth as they came up with ever more crazy excuses for the long scratch on Ianto's face.

A two-headed alien dog named Pluto searching for his lost bone across space and time was the favourite.

They finally settled down when they reached the hub and began the arduous task of dragging the Weevils downstairs to the vaults. They'd be tagged and released in a few days, but for now, letting three fighting Weevils roam the streets at Christmas was definitely out of the question.

It was hard work, and afterwards Jack led Ianto to the medical bay and cleaned up his facial wound. Ianto in turn took a look at Jack's head, but of course there was nothing but dried blood and matted hair and something Ianto didn't want to think about. Instead he grabbed Jack's hand and let him up the stairs, intending to drag him all the way back to the SUV if he had to.

Jack stopped him when they got to the top. "Can we just stay here?" he asked softly, and Ianto turned to him in surprise.

"Why not mine? We can clean up, have a lie in tomorrow morning. I'll even cook us a real breakfast." Ianto didn't really understand why Jack was so resistant to spending Christmas at his place; in some ways, it bothered him. It wasn't as if Jack hadn't spent the night before. What difference did it being Christmas make?

"I'm tired," Jack said, and he did look exhausted, which wasn't unusual after a death, especially after a difficult week. "I'd rather just sleep here. Stay with me, and I'll cook for you instead. Breakfast in bed."

Ianto crossed his arms over his chest. "With what food?" he asked.

"The food you bought yesterday for brunch," Jack replied. "It'll be my—"

"Don't say it," Ianto interrupted, holding up a hand. He didn't want to hear the g-word, because they had agreed not to use it.

"—my thanks. For being there tonight, and for staying here." Jack paused. "Please?"

Ianto thought about his flat—about his warm bed, the small tree he had set up, the fireplace he'd just got working again. And he thought about Jack's bunk, dark and plain and simple, without a Christmas decoration in sight. He sighed, because he recognized that for whatever reason, Jack needed to be in his own bed that night, and for Jack, Ianto would do almost anything.

"All right, but tomorrow you're coming to mine." Jack nodded with a grateful smile. "I mean it, Jack," Ianto said as he turned and lead them toward Jack's office. "Tomorrow night, my couch, my fireplace, my bed. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jack murmured. "And thank you."

Ianto just nodded, his throat tight at the look of relief on Jack's face. He swallowed and put on a smile, and together they climbed down into Jack's room. They cleaned up and climbed into the small bed, and to Ianto's surprise (and not a little disappointment, given their usual activities after Weevil hunting), Jack fell asleep almost immediately with his head on Ianto's chest. Ianto might have imagined it, but he thought Jack looked more relaxed and peaceful than he had in days.

Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all. And there was always Christmas morning for their usual activities—Rift willing.

* * *

Author's Note:

I've got nothing much to say this time, except to let you know there is a bit more to this than you might have been expecting. Six to eight short chapters, with a special appearance by *drum roll please* the rest of the team! Yes, I can actually write the others. In fact, I already have. So thank you for reading, I do hope you enjoy this fluffy confection as it continues toward whatever it's continuing toward. Probably something to do with New Year's Eve, I'm guessing. *wink*


	4. Do They Know It's Christmas?

IV: Do They Know It's Christmas (Or Is This a Cosmic Joke?)

Unfortunately, there was no time for their usual activities the next day. Again.

More Weevils had them out of bed before dawn, so that an hour after heading back out Jack and Ianto dragged another two aliens into the hub while most of Cardiff were just waking up to their Christmas gifts under the tree. Too tired to even bother cleaning up again and cooking breakfast, they managed to find a diner open nearby and crashed there with copious amounts of bacon, eggs, and sub par coffee, until the Rift alarm itself went off on Jack's wrist strap a good eight hours earlier than expected.

Ianto let his head fall into his hands while Jack groaned and motioned for the check.

After they paid and headed toward the SUV, Jack called Tosh at home, knowing she'd received the alert as well and had likely looked it up already.

"What've we got?" he asked, putting her on speakerphone. "And where?"

"It looks small, Jack," she said, and he could hear keys clicking in the background, probably from her laptop. "I'm not picking up any major radiation, movement, or news stories, so I'd wager it's a small retrieval. It's out near Fairwater. I can be ready as soon as I—"

Ianto cut her off. "We're already out, Tosh, we'll head out there straightaway." Jack looked at him in surprise, and he shrugged. "Why drag her out of bed, too?" he whispered. "It's Christmas morning. We're up, we can handle it."

"Ianto's right," Jack said, nodding even though Tosh couldn't see him. "We just rounded up some more Weevils, so we'll drive out there and see what else Santa left beneath the tree."

There was silence on the other end of the line. "More Weevils? Jack, it's Christmas, why are you chasing Weevils?"

"Because apparently Weevils don't celebrate religious holidays, Tosh," Ianto replied. "They seem to prefer fighting over Christmas baubles in city parks."

"Then pick me up so I can help. You probably need a break," she said.

Jack laughed. "We just had a break—greasiest Christmas breakfast in Cardiff. We're on it, Tosh. You take it easy until the next one."

He could hear her sigh. "All right. But I'm coming in next time, especially if it's bigger."

"We'll call you if we need anything," said Jack. "Otherwise, go celebrate. It's important. It's Christmas."

"Well, you remember that too, Jack. And you, Ianto. Unless you want to end up with me, the Muppets, and a bottle of cheap wine again."

Jack raised an eyebrow at Ianto, who grinned and offered a slightly embarrassed shrug at the unasked question. "I'd love to, Tosh, but I don't think it'll happen today. Maybe New Year's Eve, if the universe dares to grace us with a respite from the Rift."

"I doubt it, but I'll hold you to it. Happy Christmas, you two."

They signed off with their own holiday greetings and headed for Fairwater. It was exactly as Tosh had predicted, a simple retrieval of something Jack concluded was a bit of old space junk. Weevils and space junk. That was their Christmas, and it wasn't even noon.

They returned to the Hub to find Owen puttering around looking bored. Ianto threw himself down on the sofa, and Jack let himself fall next to him, still exhausted from two rounds of breaking up Weevil fights that included one death, not to mention the long days and nights previous. They were silent for a long moment until Jack glanced sideways to find Ianto's eyes closed, his breathing steady.

"Hey," he said softly, jostling Ianto's knee. Ianto opened one eye in response. "When are you supposed to go to your sister's?"

Ianto shook his head, letting his eyes fall closed again. "Too tired. Texted her that I couldn't make it."

Jack was silent. "Ianto, you should go. I'll even drive you if you want, but you shouldn't stay here. Owen's around, we can handle anything that comes up."

"Too late," murmured Ianto. "And too many questions."

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered, leaning over to kiss Ianto's head. "I really did ruin your Christmas."

Blue eyes opened with a faintly amused smile. "You didn't ruin it at all. That'd be the Weevils who killed you last night and the Weevils who were rude enough to wake us up this morning and that bit of rubbish the Rift saw fit to vomit up for us during breakfast. Besides, Christmas isn't over yet."

The Rift alarm went off again.

"You shouldn't have said that," Jack groaned, while Ianto swore under his breath.

Jack stood. "Owen! Call Tosh and tell her there are three of us to handle it now so she should stay home, no arguing. Then figure out what the hell it is." He grabbed Ianto's hand and pulled him up. "You. Coffee. Two of them and strong." Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Please."

With a weary nod, Ianto walked over to the coffee machine and started to brew his magic. Owen convinced Tosh they were fine without her and tracked the latest activity to a church in Roah. One rather confused priest later, they made it back to the hub with some sort of alien contraption Jack could care less about and literally tossed on the sofa as he went straight to his office to change. Tosh was at her station, looking grimly determined to stay, and he grunted something at her that she actually returned with a smile as she went to pick up his discarded artifact.

Gwen called to check in after that, but they told her it was fine, go see her family, even though Weevils were crawling out of the sewers in droves and space junk seemed to be falling around them like rain. Jack and Ianto started stunning the Weevils and just tossing them back into the nearest sewers while Tosh and Owen rounded up whatever artifacts and other interstellar litter the Rift gifted them with.

It wasn't until past dinner that Jack was back on the couch with Ianto dozing off on one shoulder and Tosh on the other. Owen was poking at some of the artifacts that had come in. He offered to head up to the tourist office when the take away was delivered and set it on the table before heading back to the medical bay to continue with whatever had captured his interest.

They ate in silence and dozed some more. When several hours went by without any more activity, Jack sent Tosh home, insisting that Owen would leave her some artifacts to study the next day, and then practically pushed Ianto downstairs. They both knew it was too busy to head back to Ianto's flat, so the most they could hope for was a few hours stolen sleep in the hub again. Gwen would be back the next day, and they would be back up to full staff to battle whatever the hell was going on with the Rift and the bloody Weevil invasion. They grabbed what broken rest they could before waking up far too early once again to more alarms, bleary-eyed and exhausted.

Boxing Day was just as busy; everyone took turns eating and sleeping and working, except for Owen, who kept the food coming with a number of ridiculous jokes and comments obviously meant to raise their weary spirits; sometimes they did, while other times Jack thought one of them was going to punch the doctor.

The next three days were just as bad, and Jack was starting to wonder what he had done to bring down such a miserable holiday on them all. Owen didn't seem to mind, as it took his thoughts off being dead and doing nothing. Tosh was tired, but dealing well enough as she had plenty of new artifacts to study; Gwen was tired but frustrated about the time away from Rhys, though she seemed glad to have missed Boxing Day with her in-laws. Ianto…well, Ianto was completely knackered. Jack had rarely seen Ianto so worn out. He'd done almost as much as Jack, been by his side for days now, and at times he was so tired he appeared somewhat dazed and forgot the simplest things; other times he seemed to compensate with an overabundance of energy that was almost manic and likely fuelled by far too many espressos to be healthy.

Jack felt it too: it was one of the toughest stretches he'd experienced, and he'd been around Torchwood for a long time. One of them was going to collapse, or worse—they all would, and the city would go to hell.

And then they had an entire night without a single call or alert, and that's exactly what happened: Jack and Ianto finally crashed, though the city did remain standing.

* * *

Author's Note:

Doesn't this sound like the best job ever? I don't know, I think I'd take it if I had all those sexy co-workers. Anyway, I did say the team was involved in this story, so for those of you patiently waiting for that, the next chapter is titled 'Do You Hear What I Hear (Team Interlude, Part One.) Yes, my cleverness amuses me. And you know I love to have fun with author's notes, so ta!


	5. Do You See What I See?

V: Do You See What I See? (Team Interlude, Part One)

Gwen strode confidently into the hub, feeling rested for the first time in days. She'd gone home late last night, but had had a good night's sleep, not to mention a home cooked meal and actual sex—not the "I'm home for a few hours to connect kind" of sex either, but the kind that left her feeling relaxed and content in a way she had not felt for weeks. God bless the Rift for finally calming down after its flurry of non-stop activity.

The base was exceptionally quiet when she walked in, although Gwen wasn't sure what she had been expecting. It was mid-morning as Jack had told them to sleep in, and she half wondered if she was the first one there. Then Owen grunted a greeting from the medical bay, and Tosh waved from where she was lying on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. Gwen did a double take. Tosh, not at her computer? She must have been staring, because Tosh sat up and grinned a bit sheepishly.

"I'm letting some programs run analysis on their own," she said. "Don't worry, I haven't gone mad or anything."

Gwen laughed, embarrassed to have been caught with her thoughts so easily read and relieved that Tosh was not offended. "I'm sorry," she said as she threw herself down on the battered old sofa as well. "You deserve to step back and relax. You just rarely do."

Tosh nodded. "I like to work, I really do. But it's been a hell of a week." Which was another sign that Tosh had been pushed to the limit: she rarely swore, even lightly. Gwen nodded in agreement.

"Last night was possibly the best night off I've had in months," said Gwen. "I did absolutely nothing but sleep, eat, and lie in front of the telly, but it was brilliant."

Tosh smiled. "I know. We needed it. I just hope…" She trailed off and glanced back down at her magazine as if reluctant to say anything more.

"What?" asked Gwen. "Is something going on?"

"No, it really is quiet for once." Tosh paused. "I think. I just hope Jack and Ianto didn't field any calls while we were all home resting, like they did Christmas Eve."

"Oh." Gwen thought about it. The two men had covered everything at Christmas and had spent the rest of the week since running themselves ragged with the rest of them. Knowing them both, it was entirely possible that they would have played martyr again to give the rest of them a night off if something had come up. Jack might not think he needed a break, but Ianto probably needed it more than any of them: he had looked positively shattered when they had all left last night.

"Did you check and see?" asked Gwen. "If there were any rift alerts or police calls or anything?"

"Of course I did," said Tosh, glancing at Jack's office as if worried that they might be overheard. "But apparently there was nothing. So hopefully they took the night off as well."

"Do you…" Gwen hesitated. "Do you suppose Ianto went home? He's been staying here a lot, I think. I wonder when he last saw his flat?"

With a sigh, Tosh put down her magazine. "He went home Christmas Eve, I know that. But then he and Jack went out after a group of Weevils. Twice. And a retrieval. I doubt he's been back much since, except to change clothes."

"And he probably hasn't gone out much either, except for calls and alarms," murmured Gwen.

"Probably not," agreed Tosh. "I feel bad for them."

Gwen looked at her in surprise. "Both of them? Why? I thought Jack was used to this sort of stuff."

"Well, yes, both of them." Tosh looked confused at Gwen's question. "They didn't really have a chance to celebrate Christmas together, did they? They were chasing Weevils all night. And then Ianto missed spending the day with his family. They've been working themselves to the bone ever since, more than any of us. It doesn't seem right, since it was their first Christmas…you know…together and all that."

Gwen stared at her, surprised at how Tosh had recognized something Gwen had completely failed to think about. Of course it was their first proper Christmas together. No one really knew what had happened between Jack and Ianto before Jack had left them to travel with his Doctor; Ianto had firmly told them while Jack was gone that it was nothing, it was casual, he was fine, and to drop it. Yet once Jack had come back, and they'd all found their old footing and a new balance, it had soon became obvious that something was going on between them, and that it was more than casual this time.

Tosh had finally confessed to Gwen and Owen, not long after Tommy had gone back to 1918, that Jack had asked Ianto on a date. They were actually _dating_. It had been hard to notice while they at work, although if one watched closely enough, there were looks, smiles, and lingering touches. Yet they had remained—aside from the outright flirting, which Gwen had seen from her first day in the hub—mostly professional.

Of course, a lot changed between Owen's death and Gwen's wedding. She remembered watching Jack and Ianto dance at the reception. Rhys had leaned over and whispered to her, "Never thought I'd see two blokes dancing at my wedding." She had given him a reproachful look. "What? You didn't tell me they were together in _that_ sort of way."

She had shrugged it off, but had smiled thoughtfully as she had watched them. Jack's face had slowly but surely relaxed into a peaceful contentment as he held Ianto, and Ianto's had grown more confident and comfortable. Yes, they were together, and it was more than in a friends-with-benefits kind of way. Yet even after that revealing moment, it was still private and hardly as issue. A few more teasing jokes, perhaps—especially from Owen—but that was about it. The only time it really showed was when one of them was injured (or in Jack's case, killed), and the other refused to leave his side: then and only then was the true nature of their relationship revealed in front of the others.

In general, both men seemed content with the dynamic among them all: the team knew, but no one really said much, so it was still mostly their business, and they went about it discreetly, at least most of the time.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Gwen realized that she had probably failed to see what Tosh had seen—Jack and Ianto's disastrous first Christmas—because she'd always been so focused on Jack, even after she had accepted Rhys. Jack just had that affect on people, capturing their love and loyalty almost instantly, and it had been hard to let that go...sometimes it still was. And yet, it was obvious that Ianto had that same affect on Jack, because Jack only had eyes for Ianto now. Gwen had been glad for them both once she had realized it and accepted it; sometimes she just failed to see it and remember it. Now, however, she was worried: not celebrating a proper first Christmas together was wrong, even for Torchwood.

"Where is Ianto?" she asked suddenly. He hadn't been upstairs in the tourist office, and he wasn't at his computer station. That usually meant either the archives or Jack's office.

Tosh had gone back to her magazine and looked up. "He went into Jack's office with coffee, but that was probably an hour ago. So I don't really want to know at this point." She smiled ruefully.

"The blinds are up and the door is half open," Gwen pointed out as she stood. "I think it's safe. I'll check on them, just to be sure."

She headed toward the office and was about to knock when she noticed something through the half open door. Pushing it open quietly, she found Jack and Ianto sitting on the small settee Jack had added to his office, both fast asleep. Two cups of coffee were getting cold on a nearby table. Smiling to herself, Gwen glanced around for a blanket, then dashed into the hub and grabbed one from the sofa before heading back to Jack's office.

Jack had his head on Ianto's shoulder. He must be tired to fall asleep in the middle of the morning when he always claimed he didn't need as much sleep as the rest of them. He looked tired but relaxed sitting with Ianto. As she gently covered them both with the blanket, Ianto stirred and opened a bleary eye.

"Did the Rift ring?" he asked sleepily.

"Yes," said Gwen, unable to resist brushing the hair from his eyes. It had grown a bit long, curling around his ears, probably because he'd been too busy to have it trimmed. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "And it said it was tired, so go back to sleep. We'll wake you if it changes its mind."

Ianto murmured a thank you before letting his head fall toward Jack's. Gwen was tempted to take a picture of them in such a rare moment of comfortable peace, but stopped. Instead, another idea was forming in her mind. These two men deserved more than a break. They deserved a Christmas together. And though Christmas was over, there was still something they could celebrate. It could be even better than Christmas.

With a grin, Gwen pulled the door shut behind her. She rounded up Tosh and called quietly down to Owen to join them. "Jack and Ianto are asleep on the sofa in his office. We're going out for coffee and lunch so we don't wake them—and so they don't hear us."

"Hear us what?" asked Owen, putting on a coat out of habit. Tosh bundled up, for it was a cold, brisk morning. She also routed any Rift alerts to her PDA. As Gwen wrapped a scarf around her neck, she grinned at them.

"Hear us talk about them. I have an idea."

"Uh-oh," muttered Owen. "I don't like the sound of that."

Tosh, however, nodded in agreement. "I do. Because I suspect I'm probably thinking the same thing you are."

Gwen's narrowed her eyes with another grin as they ascended the lift in order not to wake them with the door alarms. "And what are you thinking?" she asked.

"That Jack and Ianto need more than a break. They need a holiday, something special, just for them."

Linking arms with Tosh, Gwen stepped off the lift and led them toward their favorite café. "That's exactly what I was thinking!"

Behind them, Owen groaned, but Gwen had a feeling that by the end of the morning, they would convince him to go along with them. They had to, because Jack and Ianto deserved it.

* * *

Author's Note:

See - I can even write from Gwen's point of view! Score! Yes, author's notes make me feel trippy. More from the team in part two. I'm sure you see where this is going now. Get out your toothbrushes. And do feel free to leave a note; reviews kept the heart of fanfic writers beating strongly.


	6. Do You Hear What I Hear?

VI. Do you Hear What I Hear? (Team Interlude, Part Two)

Tosh sat at the café sipping her cappuccino, letting her mind ponder the issue as Gwen rambled and Owen grumbled. One had it all wrong and the other was hardly listening. It was time she stepped in.

"Look, Gwen, it's a good idea, but I don't think it's something they'll do if we just tell them to, you know?"

Owen sat back, arms crossed over his chest as he prepared to watch Tosh throw a wrench into Gwen's suggestion. Which wasn't it, exactly; it was just that Gwen tended to consider people's thoughts and feelings through her own filter and what she would want and do, not what the people involved would actually think and prefer. Tosh felt like she knew both Ianto and Jack better; certainly she was closer to Ianto than any of the others except Jack, and even then, sometimes Jack was just as clueless. In spite of her best intentions, Gwen wasn't really thinking _of_ them, though she was trying very hard to think _for _them.

Gwen set down her mug and looked a bit disappointed, to be honest. "Why not?" she asked. "Jack is always going on about us going home and leading normal lives. Why not him? And Ianto especially—he deserves it. He works too hard."

"Yes, he does. But Jack doesn't lead a normal life, and Ianto chose to be a part of that," Tosh said softly. "And more importantly, if we insist that they leave, they'll push back. Haven't you noticed that they are two of the most stubborn men you've ever met?"

Owen snorted and Gwen smiled, the tension dissolving quickly. "You're right, of course. Especially Ianto, though it still surprises me sometimes, considering how quiet his stubbornness can be."

"I don't know why you're surprised," said Owen, joining in the conversation. "He'd have to be stubborn as an ass to stick around here and shack up with Jack."

"So if you don't think telling them we're going to cover for them on New Year's Eve so they can go out for the night will work, what do we do?" asked Gwen. She reached out for a piece of muffin. "Just make plans and drive them there?"

"Yes," said Tosh and Owen at the same time. She glanced at him in surprise and grinned.

"Seriously?" asked Gwen, sounding sceptical.

"I talked to Ianto when we picked up the Christmas tree a few weeks ago," said Owen. "They weren't even planning on exchanging gifts for Christmas. I seriously doubt they've talked about doing anything for New Year's Eve together. There's been no time."

"We know they worked straight through Christmas," Tosh reminded them. "They're so exhausted they're asleep on the sofa in Jack's office right now in the middle of the day. When does that ever happen?"

"It doesn't, not that I remember," said Gwen. "All right, so what are you thinking? I mean, obviously they need the holiday, but you're probably right—they won't take it if we just tell them to go ahead and leave early."

"So we trick them into going," said Tosh with a broad grin.

"That's devious," nodded Owen. "I like it."

"It is a bit under-handed," Gwen agreed. "But probably necessary. So how do we do that?"

"Yes, how do we do that?" echoed Owen, turning to face Tosh with a challenging grin on his face. She ignored him and took a long sip of her drink before answering.

"We need a date first, something for them to do," said Tosh. "Something they would both enjoy. Then we go from there."

They were quiet for a moment as they all thought about it. For some reason both Tosh and Gwen turned to look at Owen, who bristled and held up his hands.

"Don't look at me. I've never planned a date for two blokes."

"Neither have we," said Tosh. "Don't think of it that way. It's two friends we care about taking a night off to celebrate New Year's Eve. What would _they_ like to do?"

Owen snorted again. "Do I really have to answer that for you?"

"I'm sure there's more to it than that, Owen," Tosh reprimanded him. "I mean, you saw them dancing at Gwen's wedding, right?"

"Yeah, I saw them," he grumbled. "Doesn't mean I have any ideas, other than finding a wedding for them to crash."

"Their first date was dinner and a movie," murmured Tosh. "But I don't remember where they went."

"How do you know that?" asked Gwen, sounding surprised. Tosh shrugged in response. Sometimes Owen and Gwen were just as oblivious as Jack. It was as if her and the Welshman were the only ones who paid attention to anything around them.

"I asked, and Ianto told me," she said. "But I'm sure it was fairly casual, and a movie isn't big enough for New Year's Eve. They deserve more."

After another silence, it was Owen who spoke up. "I know my mind is usually in the gutter, but hear me out. I've got an idea that just might be the thing." He spelled it out for them, and Tosh couldn't help but gape at him, surprised once more. That Owen of all people would come up with exactly what they needed was brilliant. She couldn't help but throw her arms around him—gently, of course—before pulling back with a broad smile.

"Owen, that's perfect! And you said you had no ideas."

Owen glanced away, and Tosh wasn't sure whether he was embarrassed or choked up. She had a feeling it was both and could guess the likely reason. "Yeah, well, everyone has their moments."

"What made you think of it?" asked Gwen, blundering in without thinking, as usual.

Owen swallowed and turned back to them with a slightly defiant look on his face. "Katie and I did the big New Year's Eve thing once, in London. I sprung for it so I could propose. Which I did, and I'm still pretty damn proud of how it came off. Not that I expect them to come back….god, engaged…" Owen looked slightly surprised at the very thought, and Tosh laid a hand on his arm to both reassure and thank him.

"They're not going to get engaged, don't worry. But I think it's more than they let on, and something like this would be perfect for them, especially because they deserve it. It's a wonderful idea, Owen. Now, where could they go? Best place in town, of course."

"But New Year's Eve is _tomorrow_," Gwen reminded them. "Everything's going to be booked full."

"Not for the world's best computer hacker," said Owen with a wink at Tosh. She tried not to blush; Gwen gave them her patented wide-eyed look.

"Owen, we can't cancel someone else's New Year's plans just for Jack and Ianto, no matter how much they need it! It wouldn't be fair."

"I won't bump anyone," said Tosh quickly. "I'll just create another opening, rearrange things a bit if I need to. Offer some compensation, if necessary."

Gwen nodded slowly. "All right. Then what? Do we just tell them it's done and hand them the key or…" She trailed off, obviously waiting for the others to finish.

"We do it by stealth and surprise them," said Tosh, warming up to the challenge. "We distract them, keep them apart, get them out of the hub when we need to. Gwen, you're in charge of packing; I'll nick Ianto's keys for you and keep him busy. Owen, you're in charge of Jack. I'll engineer a Rift alert so you can get him out, and then Gwen can get downstairs."

"Ianto needs a haircut," Gwen said, then shrugged when they both looked at her, slightly confused. "What? He does. It's a big night, so I'll get him out for a shave and a haircut after I pack."

"I am not pampering Jack Harkness," Owen declared.

"You don't have to," said Tosh. "That would make him immediately suspicious. Gwen and I can get away with it."

"So after the packing and pampering, how will we actually get them there without them figuring out what's going on?" asked Owen, and Tosh cut him off with a smile.

"I'm the world's best computer hacker, remember? Which means I can do phones too. I'll take care of everything—I'll block them from contacting one another and send text messages back and forth with everything they need to know. I'll have the cars ready, the hotel, everything." Owen seemed to understand immediately and nodded at her, looking impressed. Gwen glanced back and forth between them before throwing up her hands.

"Just tell me what else to do and I'll do it," she sighed. "Right now I'm packing and—wait, what do I pack?"

"Don't you pack for Rhys?" asked Tosh.

"Well, yes, but this is different, isn't it?" Gwen looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm not married to either one of them, I can't go through their pants drawer."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Man up, Cooper. It's just clothes. And don't forget the lube," he added with a snicker, which caused Gwen to cringe before she ruefully nodded, knowing he was right. "Speaking of clothing, they'll need dinner suits. I've got their height and weight in my medical records—Tosh, anyway you could miracle some other measurements I could take to the shop this afternoon?"

"Absolutely. Ianto did it for Gwen's wedding." Tosh laughed at the surprised look on Gwen's face. "How did you think he picked out that dress? He guessed your measurements from the hub scans. I can do one better and get the computer to actually calculate them for me."

"Right," said Owen. "As soon as you've got them, text me and I'll head to the shop and have two prim and proper dinner suits sent to—well, wherever you need them sent."

"Pick something a bit more old-fashioned. I think Jack would like that," said Gwen, and Owen nodded in agreement. Tosh held up her hand.

"But Ianto likes James Bond. So maybe you can find something somewhat vintage for Ianto, and a black Brioni for Jack." They stared at her. "What? I've watched a lot of movies with him, and he natters on about the suits. Get the Brioni."

Owen shook his head. "I offered to pick out a basic dinner suit, not something straight out of the movies for some sort of twisted role play. What am I, a bloody tailor?

"You are today," said Tosh firmly. "Trust me." Owen grumbled something about women playing dress up with men that Tosh ignored and Gwen didn't appear to notice.

"I knew you'd come around," said Gwen, smiling at Owen. "And you're both far better at this than I am, so thank you."

Tosh laid her hand across Gwen's. "It was a good idea. I'm glad we're doing this. I'll get those measurements as soon as we get back and start looking for a hotel. I'm thinking maybe St. David's, or the Park Plaza."

"That's brilliant," said Gwen, and then laughed. "I'm almost envious now."

"It's for Jack and Ianto," said Tosh. "And it'll be fun. So let's make it perfect."

"For Jack and Ianto," they echoed.

Tosh finished her drink and grinned into her cup: she couldn't wait to get started.

* * *

Author's Note:

Sneaky fluff ahead, I suspect. Thanks for reading—leave a note, yeah?


	7. The Most Wonderful Day of the Year

VII: The Most Wonderful Day of The Year (Rift Willing)

Ianto woke the next morning to a text alert from Jack's mobile. He knew it was Owen because Jack had given the good doctor the theme to _Ghostbusters_ for some reason only the doctor seemed to appreciate. Groaning, Ianto rolled over to glance at his clock only see it was several hours past the time he'd usually be up and already brewing his second round of coffee at the hub. Which meant that Owen was probably calling to see where they were and why they weren't in yet.

He sat up and stretched only to find Jack still lying in bed with his arm flung over his face.

"Going to check it?" he asked. Jack mumbled an answer. Before Ianto could decipher it, his own mobile rang; it was Tosh.

"Ianto!" she exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

Beside him, Jack groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. Ianto sighed as he answered.

"I'm fine, Tosh. Just overslept a bit."

"It's almost ten o'clock," she pointed. "You must be really tired."

"Torchwood does that to you," he replied dryly.

"You didn't take any calls last night, did you?" she asked, the slightest hint of accusation in her voice, as if saving Cardiff was the last thing he should have been doing instead of actually sleeping, in his bed, all night.

"Not after we ran down those Blowfish," he replied, remembering the alert that had woken them from a long and rather embarrassing nap on the couch in Jack's office. He, Jack, and Gwen had spent the rest of the afternoon tracking down a pair of alien pickpockets wreaking havoc across the shopping centers of the city. Tosh had stayed behind to coordinate while Owen went out on a retrieval that turned out to be nothing more than a small meteorite. They had then spent most of the night containing the situation after an unfortunate confrontation outside High Street Arcade. Jack and Ianto had literally stumbled to Ianto's car at midnight and fell into bed the moment they had reached the flat. Ianto wasn't in his suit, but he didn't remember taking it off either.

"Is everything all right?" muttered Jack, finally sitting up. His hair was sticking up in every direction possible, and Ianto raised an amused eyebrow to keep from laughing as the other man scrubbed at his head in a vain attempt to settle it down, only to make it worse.

"Is that Jack?" asked Tosh. Ianto could almost hear the grin in her voice.

"Yes, he's here. What's going on?"

"Owen was looking for him, wanted to go over the autopsy on that Blowfish Jack shot. And I could use your help with one of the artifacts we found the other day. I can't find anything in the archives about it."

"Right." Ianto sighed. "Sorry, Tosh. We'll be there in an hour. And we'll bring lunch, to make up for it."

"You're both exhausted, Ianto, and Jack got shot. You have nothing to make up for."

"You're at work," Ianto pointed out.

"Well, we all came in a bit later than usual, hoping you'd both sleep in," she laughed. "At least the Rift was quiet for one night."

"Thank Merlin for that," Ianto muttered under his breath. Jack gave him a strange look, and Ianto rolled his eyes in return.

"We'll be there soon, Tosh. Thanks for the wake up call."

"I'm sorry to bother you, but see you soon."

Ianto dropped his mobile on the comforter and fell back onto his pillow with a groan. Jack immediately wrapped his arms and legs around him, burrowing his face into Ianto's shoulder.

"They want us to come back," he murmured against Ianto's neck.

"They do," Ianto replied reluctantly. What he wouldn't give for a day off, a night out—anything but aliens and artifacts and bloody Torchwood all day, all the time. God. Just one real break, Rift willing be damned sometimes.

"Now?" asked Jack, nipping at Ianto's ear. Ianto stretched his neck, letting Jack kiss his way down to Ianto's collarbone. What was so important about an autopsy and the archives anyway? Why couldn't they just stay in bed all day and—

"Yep. Now. Told them we'd bring lunch."

More kisses made it even harder to think about getting out of bed at the moment. "Didn't we just leave that place?"

"We did. And now we have to go back." He groaned at the thought, or maybe that was because Jack's tongue had found a particularly sensitive spot behind Ianto's ear.

"Shower first?" murmured Jack, his hands starting to roam across Ianto's chest and down toward his thighs, touching and teasing in that oh-so-perfect way Jack had.

"Definitely."

"Together?"

"Of course. Saves time."

Jack grinned as he leaned over and kissed Ianto. "Then let's get up and get started."

Glancing down, Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I'm already up, how about you?"

With a grin and a growl, Jack pulled off the covers and practically dragged Ianto into the warm shower.

Four texts, three calls, and two hours later, they finally made it to the hub with lunch. Yet after that, Ianto didn't see Jack for the rest of the day.

* * *

Jack wasn't sure why Owen needed his help with the autopsy. It seemed like a pretty normal looking Blowfish to him. He felt bad about shooting it, but it had shot him first, and although he hadn't died, it had been painful none-the-less. The alien's partner had been mad as hell, which was why it was still locked up in the vaults, literally sedated up to the gills with whatever knocked out a Blowfish according to Owen. They'd deal with it later. Somehow. Whatever.

Jack tuned out Owen's lengthy rambling about Blowfish anatomy as he thought about the steamy shower he'd shared with Ianto that morning: it had been so long since they'd shared anything more intimate than a quick shag (and even that had been a while, for them). Sometimes he wished he could run away with Ianto, even for just a day, a night, a hour, and live a normal life like normal people, and not the Torchwood life of aliens and guns and space junk, not to mention all the other crap that had really worn him to the bone for once.

"Jack?" asked Owen. "Jack, are you listening? Or are you sleeping standing up now?"

Jack shook his head. "Just thinking." He grinned to himself, which immediately put Owen on guard.

"I do _not_ want to know what about," he stated. "Now, as I was saying—"

"Where are the others?" interrupted Jack, hoping to change the subject.

"Who?" asked Owen, immersed in the wide-open abdomen of the Blowfish.

"Where's Gwen? I haven't seen her since lunch and that was hours ago."

"I think she's meeting with Mr. PC Davidson about last night." Jack glanced up in concern. "No, she's not about to spill the beans, she's just reassuring him it's been dealt with in the normal, effective Torchwood manner. And that you're fine, as always, in spite of being shot in the chest."

"One of these days he's going to stop believing that."

"If he had half a brain, yeah, he might." Owen shrugged. "But we're fine for now. Good connection for crowd control, at least."

"And where did Tosh and Ianto disappear to? Are they still in the archives?"

"Guess so," Owen replied, sounding only half interested. "Tosh had something she wanted to go over with him."

"What?" asked Jack, curious as he glanced through the doorway that led to the archives. He'd much rather be down there with Ianto than elbow deep in Blowfish guts.

"Dunno. But we're just about done here," he said, grinning widely. "And as much as I hate to say it, there is nothing wrong with this Blowfish. No viruses, no drugs, nothing. Just your typical alien criminal preying on the good people of Cardiff."

"I don't know why you needed me for that," Jack grumbled. "I have a ton of paperwork to be getting on with before Ianto calls me out for falling behind."

Owen grimaced. "Please don't use the words Ianto, call, and behind in the same sentence, Jack. I really don't need that mental image."

Jack grinned. "You sure? Because I could paint a very pretty picture for you."

"Forget it. I can handle Blowfish intestines, but I cannot handle anything about your sex life. Or his."

"Your loss," laughed Jack. "Because sometime's it's—"

He was stopped by one of the computers going off. Relieved for an excuse to leave the medical bay, Jack ripped off his surgical gloves and ran upstairs, pulling up the alert on Tosh's computer. He almost whooped for joy and groaned at the same time.

"Rift activity out in Abergavenny." He frowned. "That's unusually far. Wonder what it might be."

He was just about to tap his comm unit when it buzzed him first. "Jack?" asked Tosh. "What's the alert?"

"Something out in Abergavenny. Doesn't look too big. I can head out there with Ianto if you two want to keep on with your pet projects."

"I'm done here," called Owen from the medical bay. "I'm free to go, be nice to get out for a while."

"You were out yesterday on that meteorite retrieval," Jack tossed back.

"I like fresh air," Owen shouted in return.

"You don't breathe anymore."

"Then I like Abergavenny."

"You hate it. I'm taking Ianto."

"We're actually right in the middle of something, Jack," said Tosh, sounding reluctant. Jack thought he heard some sort of protest from Ianto in the background. "Go ahead and take Owen. The scanner should be at my station to pinpoint what you're looking for."

Jack found it right away. Then he turned and found Owen already pulling on his coat and sighed; the doctor it was, then.

"All right, we should be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort, you two."

"We'll be fine, Jack. Be careful. It could be difficult out there."

Jack walked into his office and grabbed his coat. "Why? It's Abergavenny, not the back alleys of London."

"It's New Year's Eve," she pointed out. "The roads will probably be busy and the crowds might be a bit more intense."

"Right. New Year's Eve." He had completely forgot that it was New Year's Eve. Damn. He hated New Year's Eve. Ever since Alex Hopkins had shot the team eight years ago, he'd dreaded the night and made sure to be out of the hub by midnight, usually holing up in a posh hotel on the Torchwood account. Except for this year. He'd been so busy he hadn't made any arrangements whatsoever and now it was probably too late. And he hadn't talked to Ianto either, who could very well have plans given he'd missed all of Christmas. With a sigh, Jack said goodbye and clicked off his comm. Maybe he could talk to Ianto later, see if he wasn't busy. Jack had blown Christmas with Ianto, but that was different; New Year's wasn't nearly as big a deal, and at the very least maybe they could get into dinner somewhere decent and spend the night at Ianto's flat after.

It would be at least an hour to Abergavenny and an hour back with traffic, not to mention however long it took to investigate whatever the Rift had spit up for them. Jack wished Ianto wasn't so busy with Tosh as he'd much rather spend the time with him, making plans for the night. As it was, he'd just have to go with it and hope for the best. Sometimes things had a way of working themselves out, after all, Rift willing.

Just not usually in Torchwood.

* * *

Ianto glanced at his watch: he had been in the archives with Tosh searching for something he suspected didn't actually exist for several hours now and was starting to feel a bit impatient. He needed coffee and Jack, in that order, although Jack was probably just reaching Abergavenny with Owen. So he set down the files he'd been staring at for at least five minutes without actually seeing them and turned to Tosh.

"I'm going to make coffee. Need a refill?"

Tosh glanced up in surprise. "That'd be brilliant. In fact, I need a real break. Honestly, I don't know how you spend so much time down here."

Ianto grinned. "Because it's calm and quiet. I can get more done without everyone chattering away or demanding something."

She pulled a face as they headed back toward the main part of the hub. "Too dark for me," she laughed.

"Not enough computers, you mean," he tossed back, and he joined her laughter as they reached the main floor. Gwen was sitting at her computer and glanced up, a flash of something vaguely resembling guilt on her face before she smiled broadly at them.

"Tosh! Ianto! How's it coming with the alien translation you're looking for?"

Seeing as Gwen had left immediately after lunch with hardly a word, Ianto wondered how she knew what they were working on. He shrugged it off as he headed toward the coffee machine.

"No luck with the archives," Tosh said behind him. "But I'm hoping my other projects will go better. How about you? How was your meeting with Andy?"

"Eye-opening," Gwen replied, her tone implying something Ianto couldn't quite put a finger on. "But I did manage to get what I needed, so everything's all set."

"What did you need from Andy?" Ianto asked over his shoulder, wondering if they had missed something with the Blowfish at the Arcade. Yet before Gwen could answer, Ianto turned back toward them with a frown. "Where are all the coffee beans? I could swear we still had some left. I wasn't planning on shopping until tomorrow."

Gwen looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Ianto. I was making myself a cuppa and knocked them over. They went everywhere."

Ianto froze. "So where are they now?"

"Well, Mfanwy ate about half them, and I threw the other half away because they were filthy. I'm sorry." She paused. "Do you want me to get some? I can run out right now."

"No, it's fine, I'll do it." He sighed, but then forced a smile as he turned toward Tosh. "Like you said, we're having no luck, and I wouldn't mind a bit of fresh air."

"That's fine," said Tosh. "You go ahead, I've got something new to start anyway."

"Thanks." Ianto was curious, but not so curious as to ask lest he be roped into helping again. He was just glad to be getting out of the hub after a few too many hours with Tosh in the archives; as much as he liked her, he was used to working alone. It would be good to take a brisk walk by himself. And then Gwen chimed in.

"Can I join you? We could use some tea as well, then I won't have to stop later."

Ianto blew out a breath, wanting to put her off, but unable to think of any sort of excuse; he nodded as he pulled on his short coat. "Of course. I suspect you're as sick of this place as I am and just looking for another excuse to get out."

She winked as she grabbed her coat and scarf. "You might be right about that. Or I might just fancy a walk with good-looking bloke." Ianto rolled his eyes, because that was a rare comment from Gwen indeed. He half wondered if she was playing him.

"I'm serious," she continued. "We've been so busy I feel like I've hardly seen you in days." She paused. "You could do with a bit of a haircut, couldn't you, to tidy up that good-looking comment I just offered."

Ianto ran a hand through his hair; it was definitely too long for his liking, but when did he have time to get it cut? Not in weeks. Behind him, he was fairly certain he heard Tosh giggle.

"And should I suggest you get a manicure and a facial, or would that be misogynistic of me?"

"Suggest it to Rhys, and I'll kiss you for it," she laughed. Ianto couldn't help but smile as they left the hub together.

"Have Jack and Owen checked in?" he asked as they walked toward one of the small shops where he liked to pick out the best beans to brew. She opened her mouth to respond, then stopped.

"I haven't heard from them. Where did they go?"

"Rift alert in Abergavenny," Ianto replied.

"Oh, that's far," said Gwen. "Hopefully it was nothing much."

Ianto was quiet as they walked. He thought about texting or calling Jack, but didn't want to bother him in the field. It was obviously a testament to how much time they'd been spending together that not seeing Jack most of the afternoon felt so odd. He hoped Jack and Owen made it back for dinner. Because—

"_Uffern gwaedlyd__,"_ Ianto said, stopping in his tracks and reverting to his Welsh roots. "It's New Year's Eve."

Gwen turned and looked at him funny. "Did you just realize that?"

"I did," he admitted, catching up to her. "We've been so busy I hadn't even given it a second thought."

"So no big plans, then?" she asked slyly, and Ianto shook his head.

"None whatsoever. Never had a chance to make any and wouldn't know what to do if I did." It was yet another thing he and Jack hadn't talked about, spending New Year's Eve together—at least, in terms of doing something special, like actually going out. Then again, given how they'd spent their Christmas, the Rift would probably drop a Raxacoricofallapatorian spaceship in middle of the Cardiff Bay if they tried to start the new year together doing anything but running around for Torchwood.

Gwen linked her arm in his. "Maybe you and Jack can go out later, at least get dinner or something."

"Rift willing," he murmured, and then shook his head. "No, we would have needed reservations weeks ago. It'll probably be take-away again." They arrived at the coffee shop and Ianto opened the door for her. "Do you and Rhys have any plans?" he asked.

"Rift willing," she echoed back at him, "we'll just spend a quiet night in. I doubt I'll even make it to midnight."

Ianto just nodded in agreement as he did his shopping quickly but quietly, trying not to be disappointed in something he really had no reason to be disappointed about: New Year's Eve was just another night, and for them, probably another night chasing the scum of the universe, protecting the good people of Cardiff so they could ring in the new year with dinner and dancing. Gwen picked out some tea, and after putting it all on the Torchwood account ("Happy New Year!" Ianto had offered somewhat whimsically) they headed back out to the Quay.

"Now, about that haircut," she said. "Where do you usually go?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and she gave him her wide-eyed innocent look. "I'm serious. Start the new year right, Ianto. We'll just nip in before we head back to the hub. We've got time."

Ianto glanced at his watch; it was almost four in the afternoon, and it had been a quiet day. Gwen was practically pulling him forward, so he reluctantly nodded; may as well take advantage when he could. "We should probably check in, though."

"I'll call Tosh," she said quickly, and pulled out her mobile. "Where are we going?" she whispered to Ianto as she waited.

"Marco's, it's just a short walk," he said, pointing to the left. She immediately turned them and started walking briskly.

"Hello? Tosh, yeah, it's Gwen. We've got the coffee, but as long as everything's quiet, we're going to make another stop." There was a pause as Gwen listened to whatever Tosh was saying. "Exactly. Oh, good. Thanks a lot, Tosh."

"Ask her if Jack and Owen are back," said Ianto.

"Are Jack and Owen back from Abergavenny?" she dutifully repeated, and shook her head at Ianto, although there was a smile on her face. "Right. Perfect. We'll be back in an hour, then."

Hanging up the phone, Gwen linked arms with Ianto once more. "Jack and Owen are on their way back, so we've got plenty of time. Let's go get you cleaned up."

"Cleaned up? I wasn't aware I was quite that scruffy. Are you like this with Rhys?" Ianto grumbled as he let himself be guided forward.

"Actually, he's the one who nags me about things," she laughed. "So it's nice to give it back to someone else for a change."

"Right. So glad I could be there for you." Ianto narrowed his eyes at his companion. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were up to something."

A quick flash across her face suggested he might be right, but then it was gone, replaced by the gap-toothed smile that was so familiar. Ianto put it out of his thoughts; this was Gwen, who was just mothering him like Tosh, not planning some big surprise. He'd go along with her, get his hair cut, and hopefully Jack would be back at the hub by then and they could work out something for the night.

Preferably something that did not involve Weevils, Blowfish, or anything extraterrestrial whatsoever—Rift willing, of course.

* * *

Author's Note:

Er, almost there. Really. Rift willing. Just give me a few extra days, though. It's tricksy, it is. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate the reviews!


	8. Sleigh Ride

VIII. Sleigh Ride (In a Bentley and an Aston Martin)

It was later than he had expected, and although he was irritated and covered in mud ("Sorry," Owen had said rather unapologetically after stumbling on the way back to the SUV and accidentally knocking Jack into the dirt) the first thing Jack did when he entered the hub was look for Ianto. Tosh was back at her station, but he did not see the Welshman. Frowning, he was just about to tap his comm when Tosh finished at her computer with a flurry of keys and turned around.

"He's picking up some coffee with Gwen," she said, a small knowing smile on her face that did not quite embarrass Jack, even though it was clear his intentions had been obvious.

"Exactly what I was looking for, coffee," said Jack with a wink. Tosh nodded knowingly.

"Right. They should be back soon." She exchanged some sort of look with Owen, then glanced back at Jack. "What happened to you? I thought you said there was nothing out there."

"There _was_ nothing out there," Jack replied with a roll of his eyes. "Nothing but a very clumsy doctor and a big puddle of mud in the middle of a field." Which he had fallen into through no fault of his own thanks to the unruffled doctor.

Tosh wrinkled her nose. "You'll probably want a shower then," she offered, and Jack snorted as he headed toward his office.

"You think?" he tossed over his shoulder. He shut the door behind him, annoyed that the alert had taken them so far for no reason—not even a meteorite this time, just sheep and mud. What was going on? Why was this happening? Blowfish, Weevils, Rift alerts—constantly, for over a week. Now he just wanted to clean up, find Ianto, and leave. He was at the end of his rope: he needed to get out, he needed to get out with Ianto, and it needed to be something that didn't involve getting shot or dirty.

Well, in the literal sense, anyway. Figuratively speaking, on the other hand…

Grinning to himself as he thought about that morning shower again, Jack pulled out his mobile and sent Ianto a text. He couldn't resist; he wanted to know when Ianto would be back. They hadn't seen one another since lunch, and at the hub that was unusual. Maybe Ianto was enjoying the break from one another, but Jack honestly felt a bit lost without the other man around. It wasn't Ianto's dependable work, dry wit, or good looks; it wasn't even his coffee. It was simply his presence: the looks across the room, the small touches in passing, the secret smiles that said so much more. The knowledge that they could have a shag anytime, anywhere was just a bonus. And truthfully, when Jack thought about it, it was far more than a shag at this point; it was an intimate connection that only they shared, and right then Jack missed that connection with Ianto. He wanted to make sure they had some sort of connection that night, to start the year off right.

_Where are you? Back soon? J_

He headed down to his bunker and began to undress. But as he dropped his dirty clothes in a pile in the corner, an odd feeling shuddered through him. Something felt different about the room, as if someone had been down there and gone through his belongings. Glancing around, he couldn't find anything out of place, exactly, but it still felt like something had been moved. He frowned, trying to put a finger on it as he pulled fresh clothing from his closet. Yes, it definitely appeared as if someone had been in there, the clothes were hanging just the slightest bit differently than last time he'd been in the closet. Apparently Ianto's observational skills and organizational fetish was rubbing off for him to even notice; Jack wondered if Ianto himself had been down there for some reason.

His mobile buzzed and he picked it up, hoping for a positive reply. He'd wait on a shower if Ianto would be back soon enough to join him again. Unfortunately, he was disappointed.

_Running errands with Gwen. Back in an hour._

He didn't sign it, and it sounded rather short for Ianto, but perhaps he was in the middle of something. With a sigh, Jack headed toward the shower to wash the dirt and mud away. At least he'd be clean for later, if there was a later. He just hoped Ianto wasn't busy and was interested in doing something together. Or that Gwen wasn't planning some hub party, since they'd all spent more than enough time together recently. Jack just wanted an early night with Ianto; was that too much to ask?

Stepping into the warm shower—alone this time—Jack noticed immediately that one of his soaps and shampoos was missing, along with a straight razor and toothbrush. Now that was definitely odd. It was certainly possible he'd used it up and not noticed, or that Ianto had borrowed it at some and not replaced it (however unlikely), but Jack couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on.

And that maybe it was a good thing.

With a smile, he cleaned up, hoping the mystery would be solved soon.

* * *

Ianto ran a hand through his much shorter hair, then brushed any loose ones off his suit coat. He wanted a shower, especially if he was going to try to make plans with Jack that night. He had to admit, he did feel a bit better for having let Gwen drag him out to Marco's, where she had even insisted he get a shave; apparently he had been doing a poor job at keeping up with that as well. Ianto couldn't help but wonder why she was pushing so hard; he was fairly sure by now that she was up to something.

As they walked back toward the hub, Gwen nattered on about how her and Rhys had spent the previous New Year's while Ianto half-listened. He was glad to feel the familiar distraction of his mobile vibrating in his pocket. Hoping it was Jack, he flipped it open and found a text message that made him frown in confusion at first, until a slow grin spread over his face.

_Meet me back at your flat. We've got dinner plans._

Jack hadn't signed it, which was odd, and it was a bit abrupt, but then sometimes Jack was just straight and to the point. Ianto thought about calling, but decided to just go with Jack's little game. He had wanted to do something special ever since he had realized the date and felt terrible for forgetting. Apparently Jack had come through and actually remembered, so who was Ianto to argue with his methods? Jack was the boss, after all.

Stopping Gwen in mid-sentence, he kissed her on the cheek and turned to leave. She looked a bit stunned at his sudden departure. "Where are you going?"

"I just got a text from Jack," Ianto called back as he hurried toward the car park. He thought about lying and telling her it was Weevils, but why? They deserved a decent meal on New Year's Eve at the very least, so he had nothing to feel guilty about, right? "Looks like I'll get that dinner after all!"

Gwen grinned and looked genuinely happy for him. "Good for you! We'll stick around the hub until we're sure it's quiet."

"Call us if you need to!" he replied. "I'm sure we'll be back in a few hours."

"Forget it!" she shouted back with a laugh. "Enjoy a night out for once."

Ianto nodded absently as he hurried through the car park, an almost giddy excitement building in his gut. Jack had actually planned something for them to do, when Ianto had completely forgot it was even New Year's Eve. He idly wondered why he needed to go back to his flat instead of leaving straight from the hub, but knowing Jack, there was likely a good reason; it probably involved getting naked before they left.

Which was fine by Ianto; that morning still brought a grin to his face.

He tried not to drive too quickly, but made it home in what was probably record time. Bounding up the steps, he quickly let himself into his flat…only it was dark and empty.

"Jack?" he called, and received no response. He checked the bedroom, half expecting to find Jack, lounging there with nothing on, but the bed was still made and quite empty. Jack was not in the shower either, waiting for a repeat performance of that morning. Heading into the kitchen with a frown, Ianto stopped when he saw an overnight bag on the table with a single white rose laid across the top.

Ah ha.

Pulling out his mobile, he sent Jack a text, intuitively sensing that this was how the game was going to be played: piece by piece, instruction by instruction. And he was more than willing to play along as he typed a response with a large grin on his face.

_More than dinner, I see. Since you are not here, where shall I meet you instead? I_

He checked the bag as he waited for Jack's reply and was somewhat impressed by Jack's packing: he'd done a decent job, which was remarkable given that Ianto usually packed for Jack's overnights due to the man's complete inability to do anything but throw a change of pants into a small bag. He wondered if Jack had actually packed it, or if he'd had help; his thoughts were interrupted by his mobile.

_Meet me downstairs in thirty minutes. Which means you have time to shower. Can't wait to see the new cut._

Clean up? New hair cut? How did Jack know about that? Well, maybe Tosh had told him when Jack had got back to the hub. Then again, Gwen hadn't said anything on the phone to Tosh, so Tosh didn't know they'd stopped…maybe Gwen, then. She would have returned by now, and she loved gossiping about other people's business. Ianto wondered how much she was involved in this; he was definitely feeling played by her insistence on getting the haircut and shave.

Nevertheless, he jumped into the shower to clean up for the night. It wasn't quite the same as it had been that morning, but that was all right, because he knew he had something to look forward to later. He dressed quickly but conscientiously. His best suit, Jack's favorite shirt with his own favorite tie, new leather shoes he'd been saving for the right occasion. He combed through his hair, ran a hand over his smooth cheek, and nodded at the mirror. He was ready, and he couldn't wait to see Jack.

Heading downstairs five minutes early with his bag, Ianto was surprised to find a professional car waiting in front of his building—an Aston Martin DB9, no less. He wouldn't have thought it was for him until the sharply dressed driver stepped forward and inclined his head.

"Mr. Jones?"

Ianto nodded wordlessly, slightly stunned at the impressive vehicle before him. The driver grinned as he took Ianto's bag and opened the passenger door for him. Ianto had always liked being driven around, and this was no exception: the interior of the car was sleek leather, and there was even a glass of champagne poured and ready for him in the front seat.

But there was no Jack. Hm.

The driver didn't speak to him, simply pulled on his seatbelt, started the car, and pulled away with a ride that was heavenly. Ianto sank into his seat, reveling in the luxury. Yet after a few minutes, Ianto couldn't help but speak.

"Excuse me, but where are we going?"

"The Park Plaza, sir. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

The Park Plaza. Jack had really outdone himself then. He must have been planning this for months. Leaning back, Ianto picked up the champagne flute, silently toasted himself and Jack, and blissfully sipped his drink as the car carried him toward the rest of his night. He was looking forward to an amazing New Year's Eve with Jack, Torchwood be damned.

* * *

It had been an hour since Jack had texted Ianto, and the other man still wasn't back. Rather than pester Ianto or the rest of the team, Jack had settled down to catch up on that paperwork he'd mentioned to Owen, only he was distracted. His thoughts kept going back to the lazy morning they had spent in bed, to all the unusual and annoying things that had happened that afternoon, even to his missing toiletries. He was fairly certain something was going on. His mobile alert just about confirmed it.

_Took longer than I thought, but I'm finished now. Meet me at the lift—dress nice._

Jack grinned. So that was it. Ianto had something planned. Of course he had. He was too organized to forget New Year's Eve. It touched Jack to think that Ianto had gone to such great lengths to keep it secret, to make it special. Perhaps this would make up for their dismal Christmas.

Sliding down the ladder to his room, Jack quickly changed into dark trousers and even added a sport coat that rarely saw the light of day, though he was not one for ties. He hurried back to his office and glanced around for his coat, frowning when he couldn't find it. He stepped into the hub, looked around some more, and finally stopped, hands on his hips. "Has anyone seen my coat?" he demanded.

Tosh glanced at him with such innocence that he was instantly suspicious.

"It was really dirty, Jack," she said. "Gwen ran it to the cleaners before they closed."

He stared at her. That was Ianto's job. _Ianto_ took care of his coat, not Gwen. What the hell was going on?

"Tosh, it's cold outside, I need a coat." His voice sounded more immature than upset, and Tosh smiled liked she might smile at a young child who had lost a prized toy.

"Ianto has a spare upstairs. I brought it down for you, figuring you'd need it at some point."

Jack did not believe for a moment that Ianto had an extra long coat upstairs, but he walked over to the man's station and found a dark wool coat draped across the chair. It wasn't the same as his RAF coat—no captain's marks—but it was a good coat, nonetheless. Stylish, warm, with a sharp scarf and an extra pair of leather gloves in the pocket. He narrowed his eyes at Tosh, wondering what she was up to, but she merely smiled back and returned to whatever she was doing on her computer.

"Owen still here?" he asked, and she nodded. "Gwen back in a few?" Tosh nodded again, and Jack took a deep breath, ready to leave.

"Then I hope you don't mind keeping an eye on things for a while. Ianto and I are going out to have a meal that is not take-away for once this month."

Tosh stepped out of her chair and almost squealed. "That's great, Jack!" She threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed tight; yes, there must be something going on for her to be so excited about his dinner plans. "Have a wonderful night."

"It's just dinner," he said with a laugh. "We'll be back in a few hours."

"Don't worry about it," she told him, pushing him toward the lift and not the cog doors. How did she know he was leaving that way and not taking the SUV? Unless Gwen had driven it to the cleaners, but still. Strange. He pressed the buttons on his wrist strap to bring down the lift.

"We'll be back in a few hours to relieve you," he repeated in a more insistent voice. And Tosh actually rolled her eyes at him, which meant something was definitely going on. Glancing up toward the tower where Ianto was waiting, Jack shrugged to himself. He may as well go with her blessing; they deserved it, after all. It was just dinner, just the two of them, just this one time, and for once he almost didn't care if the world ended.

Stepping onto the lift, he almost stumbled over a bag—his bag, the overnight bag he used for quick trips to London or a weekend spent at Ianto's flat. It was packed and lying in the center of the lift, a single white rose on top, and Jack immediately suspected that his missing toiletries were probably inside. So Ianto had planned something more than dinner, obviously. Glancing over his shoulder, Jack saw Tosh back at her computer; she hadn't noticed a thing. So he grabbed the bag with a grin and let the lift carry him toward the Plass, his anticipation building.

Yet as Jack stood on the stone and glanced around, he did not see Ianto or his car anywhere. Was he early, or late? Stepping off the stone with his bag securely in hand, he was wandering around a bit, looking for Ianto's familiar Audi, when a large black Bentley pulled up next to him. His free hand went to his Webley immediately.

"Mr. Harkness?" asked the driver, stepping out with a slight bow. Jack nodded slowly. The driver smiled and nodded.

"My name is George. I was sent to pick you up. I was instructed to tell you it's perfectly safe."

"That's what most men say when they kidnap people in fancy cars," Jack murmured, still on guard.

"I assure you I am not here to kidnap you. Mr. Jones asked me to pick you up so that you might meet him for dinner."

Jack's eyebrows flew up. Ianto had sent a car for him? That was something he'd never expect, even for a surprise New Year's Eve date. Still suspicious, Jack took out his mobile to send Ianto a text, but he received one even as he was typing.

_Get in the car, Jack. I know you're wondering, and yes, it was me._

That was all he needed. Ianto knew him so well, he'd known that Jack would balk at being picked up by a strange car on the Plass. With a nod, Jack let the driver take his bag and open the door, settling himself comfortably inside the plush interior. Champagne stood ready and Jack immediately took a sip; it was good. Hopefully there would be more later.

The driver returned to the front and started the car. Jack leaned forward, drink in one hand.

"So where are you kidnapping me to?" he asked, unable to keep the flirtatious tone from his voice. The driver rolled his eyes; it was almost like having Ianto there, although that would have been much better, given how large the back seat was…

"Park Plaza, sir. Please sit back and enjoy the ride."

Effectively dismissed, Jack returned to his seat and watched the city glide by while he sipped his champagne. Ianto had really gone all out. He'd made reservations, booked an expensive car and hotel, and sent mysterious text directions just to add to the mystery. God, the man was amazing. Even in the middle of everything they'd had to handle at the hub over the past few weeks, Ianto had still taken the time and made the effort to plan something special for them.

Jack couldn't wait to see Ianto, to spend the night with him, and to show his thanks and deep appreciation. He was a lucky man, indeed.

* * *

Author's Note

It was getting a bit long by my normal chapter word count, so I thought that this would be a good place to stop and post, since the rest is even longer, and I'm still working on it. You know those boys. Enjoy the setup! Shouldn't be but a few days. Unless the Rift acts up, of course…

PS. I know almost nothing about cars, chauffeurs, or the Park Plaza. Someday I'd like to try it all myself, though. Thank you for reading!


	9. Believe

IX. Believe (It or Not)

Ianto checked into the Park Plaza hotel with little trouble. When he inquired politely about the booking, he was simply told that it was under the name of Torchwood, which unfortunately earned him a slight frown from the receptionist. Yet he was treated with nothing but respect as he was given his room key and table assignment for the New Year's Eve banquet in the main ballroom later that night that was part of his booking package. He now found himself gazing in wonder at the spacious suite near the top of the hotel he had been shown to.

Two large rooms, a positively luxurious bathroom, a wet bar with a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket, and an incredible view over the city: the only thing missing was Jack. Ianto smiled to himself, wondering what Jack was up to, and took his bag to the bedroom. He stopped short at the sight.

Lying on the bed was possibly one of the most stunning dinner suits he had ever seen. Black wool with tone on tone striping, the single-breasted Parisian style jacket had satin notched lapels, the grey waistcoat had four buttons and a subtle but intricate pattern, and the silk cravat was deep burgundy, certainly not a coincidence. Ianto stared at it, his heart racing, and not because of the suit he was about to put on. If he was to wear one, that meant Jack would be wearing one as well, and Ianto couldn't wait to see Jack in a dinner suit. The thought almost made him...well, it definitely made his current trousers a bit tight.

He glanced around the room for any other sign of Jack, any hint of what was to come. As he stood there, his mobile went off with a text from Jack.

_Get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs at the bar in twenty minutes._

Ianto sent back a rather more inappropriate text than he usually sent, but he couldn't help it. He was almost as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. He quickly took off the suit he had so carefully chosen at his flat, making sure to hang it properly in the spacious closet. Then he slowly, almost reverently, began to dress himself for dinner.

He practically moaned out loud as he pulled on the trousers; the material felt almost sinful against his body. This was a high quality suit, which almost certainly meant Jack must have had some help in choosing it. It fit perfectly, from the length of the trousers, to the sleeves of the crisp white wing collar shirt, to the cut of the striking jacket. Ianto kept his own shoes as they went exceptionally well with the suit and would be far more comfortable. He stepped into the bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair one last time, then carefully tied the cravat that finished the ensemble.

Fingering the rather generic cufflinks that had come with the suit, he had an idea. Heading back to the bag that had been packed for him, Ianto turned it upside down and let everything spill onto the bed. And there in the middle of everything was the small blue box where he kept the pair of cufflinks Jack had given him after Gwen's wedding, silver and blue, a memory of Jack's long-ago wedding that had been offered and accepted as part of a new commitment. They might not match perfectly, but they were perfect for the occasion.

His heart racing, Ianto packed his bag again and waited those last few minutes before heading to the bar by admiring the view from the window and thinking about the night ahead. He was really looking forward to quite another view, though, and finally turned toward the door to head downstairs and find Jack.

* * *

The driver pulled up to the Park Plaza and opened his door, and Jack stepped out with a low whistle. He had never been there before, and Ianto had really picked something brilliant. The lobby was posh and spacious, though the receptionist frowned slightly when he attempted to check in. He wasn't sure why, but thought he heard something about 'More bloody Torchwood' under her breath. Odd.

He made his was toward the second floor, looking forward to finally seeing Ianto, hoping the man was ready to be thoroughly thanked for planning what was already turning out to be an amazing date. Yet when he opened the door to his room, it was empty: no Ianto.

There was, however, a very smart dinner suit laid out on the bed, and Jack grinned to himself. So that's how they were playing it. He sent a quick text to Ianto.

_Nice suit. You wearing one too? J_

The reply came back quickly.

_Naturally. Put it on and meet me in suite 816._

A suite? Jack tried to figure out what was going on as he stripped off his clothes and threw them on the other side of the bed. Why wasn't Ianto sharing a room with him? Had he actually booked them separate rooms? Why? To keep up the subterfuge? Or maybe for variety later?

The dinner suit was exquisite; Jack had rarely worn better. Trust Ianto to pick out the best. As he pulled on the jacket and admired the perfect fit, he glanced at the label and saw that it was a Brioni. So it was the James Bond suit, then. Ianto was apparently living out his fantasy through Jack. Well, if Ianto had a suit half as good looking as Daniel Craig's, Jack wasn't sure how long it would actually stay on once he reached the eighth floor.

Fiddling with the bowtie, Jack found to his embarrassment that he could only make a tangled knot of it. It had been so long, apparently a man really could forget how to tie proper bowtie, so he left it undone, hoping Ianto might appreciate the casual look and help him with it once they finally met up. Running a quick hand through his hair and buttoning his jacket, Jack left his room behind and stepped onto the lift. He typed a quick text to Ianto, letting him know he was on his way.

_Dressed to kill. Nice suit, Mr. Jones. J_

As he stepped out onto the eighth floor and hit send, he thought he heard a text alert from a nearby room that sounded very similar to Ianto's phone. His own mobile went off almost immediately in response.

_Mine too. Good eye, Mr. Harkness. I_

Good eye? But he hadn't picked out Ianto's suit. Maybe Ianto was referring to Jack's assessment of his own Brioni. His heart beating rapidly with anticipation, Jack stopped in front of suite 816 and took a deep breath to settle himself, more than ready to start the night.

The door opened before he even had a chance to raise his hand and knock.

* * *

Ianto glanced down at his phone.

_Dressed to kill. Nice suit, Mr. Jones. J_

An obvious Bond reference, but what did it mean? Ianto's suit wasn't Bond; it was far too vintage for that. And Jack hadn't even seen him yet to be ogling him. Something was off, but Ianto didn't really care enough to be bothered by it: he just wanted to see Jack.

_Mine as well. Good eye, Mr. Harkness. I_

To his surprise, he heard Jack's text alert in the hallway, and striding over to the door, he pulled it open to find Jack standing there, hand halfway raised to knock.

"Couldn't wait for me to meet you downstairs, then?" Ianto asked dryly, even though he was incredibly glad that Jack had come to him. The man looked beyond amazing, like he'd stepped out of a movie. Even the fact that his tie was undone—he'd probably tried and failed a half dozen times, knowing Jack—just made it more sexy, and Ianto wasn't sure if he wanted to go downstairs at all. He'd almost rather stay in the room and—

"You asked me up here," grinned Jack. He was staring at Ianto, subconsciously licking his lips, and there was a passionate sparkle to his eye that Ianto hadn't seen for weeks. He was happy and relaxed, and very obviously turned on, and that made Ianto's heart leap in his chest as he literally pulled Jack inside, slammed the door behind him, and pressed him against the wall for a long, hard kiss.

Eventually he stepped away, slightly breathless, and began to do up Jack's tie for him.

"Wait, wait," Jack laughed, grabbing his wrists. "What are you doing? They told me at the desk that dinner is at eight. Since it's not yet eight, you should be undressing me, not tying me back up."

"There'll be time for both later," Ianto murmured, finishing the tie and stepping back to admire his work, not to mention the suit. He ran a hand over the lapels, tilted his head to the side, and grinned. "That suit is too perfect to take off so soon."

Jack pouted, but stepped forward and ran his hands down Ianto's arms, along his waist, and then back up, tracing the buttons on his waistcoat before pulling them flush together. "Like I said, you've got a good eye."

"So do you," Ianto returned, once again recognizing that something was not right about Jack's remark but not really caring. There was another long, slow kiss this time, and then Jack stepped back and glanced around the room.

"How come you booked your own room?" he asked. "Not to mention a much nicer one than mine?"

Ianto narrowed his eyes as he watched Jack move toward the wet bar. He gestured at the champagne as if asking permission, and Ianto nodded in reply. Jack opened the bottle and poured them each a generous glass.

"I didn't book this room," Ianto finally replied, clinking glasses with Jack, who was smiling broadly. "You did."

Jack sipped at his champagne and shook his head. "I didn't do all this. You sent me out on that bogus alert so you could ruffle through my things at the hub, pick out a brilliant suit, and even send a car to pick me up. It was perfect." He leaned forward to kiss Ianto once more. "Thank you." He paused. "As long as I get to share the suite with you."

Ianto glanced down at the floor with a knowing grin as it finally began to make sense. He quickly downed his glass and set it down before facing Jack.

"I didn't do any of that, Jack."

Jack's face went very still. "But neither did I."

"No, you didn't."

"You didn't even pick out the Bond suit?" Jack asked, his voice sounding slightly baffled.

"Nope." Ianto was grinning broadly at Jack's uncertainty. That just seemed to make Jack even more confused, and he finished his glass in one large gulp.

"So what's going on then?"

Ianto sat down on the bed and started to laugh. He let himself fall backward, grinning up at the ceiling, and thanked not only the Rift for staying quiet that day, but for one of the rare times in his life, he thanked Torchwood for giving him such amazing friends.

* * *

Jack sat down next to Ianto, who was still looking at the ceiling, laughing softly to himself. He too laid down, but instead of staring at the ceiling, he turned to his side to watch Ianto, lying next to him in the most spectacular piece of men's clothing Jack had ever seen on the man. Three piece dinner suit, tie knotted immaculately. Taking one of Ianto's hands, he pushed back the sleeve of the jacket and saw that Ianto was wearing the cufflinks that Jack had given him after Gwen's wedding. And for some reason, the sight of them sent a warm flush through him, so that he quickly found himself on top of Ianto, gazing down into blue eyes that met his own with equal fire and a hint of amusement.

"Care to tell me what's going on?" Jack asked, and then began to wheedle it out of the Welshman by trailing kisses from his jaw to his collar, then back up to his earlobe. Ianto made a sound that was a bit like a moan crossed with a laugh.

"If you stop to think about it, you'll figure it out," he breathed. He shifted under Jack and now it was Jack's turn to moan. Ianto Jones, moving beneath him in the most stunning suit ever—he wasn't sure he wouldn't embarrass himself right then and then just thinking about it.

"I can't think straight with you in that suit," he murmured, capturing Ianto's mouth in a searing kiss. "So just tell me."

"We've been set up," Ianto said very matter-of-factly. The abruptly serious tone surprised Jack, so that Ianto quickly took advantage and flipped them, pinning Jack's arms to the bed and beginning the same torturous path of lips and tongue over Jack's skin that Jack had just been following along Ianto's neck.

"By who?" Jack gasped, hips bucking up towards Ianto.

"By whom," Ianto whispered into his ear, drawing out the word in that damnable accent. Jack moaned.

"By whom?"

Ianto sat up, placing his hands on Jack's hips and massaging as he explained. Jack found it very hard to concentrate and desperately wanted to rip the tie, the suit, and the pants right off the man on top of him, but he forced himself to listen.

"By the team, of course," replied Ianto. He ran playful fingers up and down Jack's chest, teasing at the buttons of his shirt but not undoing them. "Tosh kept me busy in the archives, Owen kept you out all day. Which means Gwen probably packed for us while she was supposedly out seeing Andy—on top dropping the coffee beans so she could insist I get a haircut."

"Makes sense so far." Jack gasped as Ianto's hands did a rather naughty thing to his nipples, right through the shirt. "Go on. And the cut looks good."

"Thank you. I doubt Gwen booked the hotel and car, though. That would be Tosh, probably while we were all out yesterday afternoon since I doubt they could keep it quiet for any longer than a few days. She could get into the computers, move around reservations and such all while coordinating the Blowfish incident."

"Convenient. And the suits? Gwen or Tosh?"

Ianto stopped to think for a moment. "Actually, it could have been Owen. He was gone a long time on that meteorite retrieval yesterday, and they'd need at least a day to tailor them, even for a rush job. We could track his phone if you wanted."

Jack shook his head and laughed out loud. "You're not serious."

"I'm not serious about tracking his phone, no," said Ianto, grinning down at him. "But the rest of it? I think I've solved the case."

Ianto rolled off him, sitting up and smiling thoughtfully to himself, and Jack considered it as well. Ianto was probably right, given that he was rarely wrong about such things. Jack hadn't seen Gwen all day, Owen had been persistent in keeping him busy with meaningless tasks, and Tosh had been so excited when he'd announced he was having dinner. It was incredible to think that his team had done this for them. Jack sat up next to Ianto, taking his hand and idly tracing patterns across his palm.

"Why do you think they did this? Went through all this trouble?" He shook his head. "Even Owen, picking out dinner suits? That's…well, that's just…"

"Shocking? Staggering?" offered Ianto.

"Definitely unexpected," Jack laughed. "How'd he even know our size? Or what to choose?"

"Tosh told him," Ianto replied simply. "Hub scans for size, and she knows my fondness for James Bond—as well as your taste in clothing—so he probably just rattled off her directions at the shop and had them sent here."

"And the cufflinks?" Jack asked. "How in the world did they know about those?"

"Probably just luck that they were out on my dresser," said Ianto, smiling down at the gift fondly. "Score one for Gwen."

"I really can't believe they did all this for us," Jack said in amazement. "I have to admit, I had completely forgot to even ask you about New Year's Eve, let alone make any plans. I figured you had done it all after the text you sent me this afternoon to meet you at the lift."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I didn't text you to meet me at the lift. You texted me to meet you at my flat."

"And let me guess—that's where you found your bag packed?" Ianto nodded and Jack continued. "And then a car?"

"Aston Martin," said Ianto, his eyes almost glazing over.

"Nice," said Jack.

"So it was the same for you?" Ianto asked.

"My bag was on the lift, and the car was up on the Plass, yes. A Bentley."

"Which means Tosh must have been—"

"Intercepting our phones." They were silent for a moment.

"It's brilliant," Ianto said, shaking in head in amazement.

"I still don't understand why we have two rooms, though," said Jack, and Ianto shrugged nonchalantly, although there was a teasing smile playing at his lips.

"Variety?"

"That's exactly what I thought!" Jack laughed and pulled Ianto into a quick kiss, simply because he loved that the other man thought like him. "But it must have been part of the plan."

"She could have had us both meet up here," Ianto pointed out. "Maybe it was too hard to coordinate the timing."

"Wouldn't have been as much fun either," Jack replied. "Because I will never forget the moment you opened that door, ever."

Ianto's face went suddenly very still and serious. "Really?" he whispered. "Ever?"

"Not in all my lives, Ianto Jones," Jack said softly, and they gazed at one another for a long moment, unsaid words passing between them, until Ianto shook his head and smiled.

"Right. So dinner at eight, then? How about that drink first?"

He stood and held out his hand to Jack, who couldn't help but offer a wag of his eyebrows in return. "Sure you don't want to frisk me for weapons?"

Ianto laughed and pulled him up anyway. "As I said, there will be plenty of time for that later," he said. "And two rooms," he added with a wink.

"Ooh, naked hide and seek in a posh hotel," said Jack, following him toward the door. "I like that idea."

"Forget it."

"Aww, come on. We've got two rooms, we may as well use them."

"We will," said Ianto, and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yours is closer to the ballroom, I'm guessing?"

Jack nodded, a grin playing across his face. "Second floor, couldn't be closer."

"Perfect," said Ianto, then leaned in close to let his lips just barely graze against Jack's ear. "Because I brought the stopwatch."

And with that tantalizing comment, he opened the door and motioned Jack through, and they headed downstairs to begin the night.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ah, sorry! It was getting long again! Plus now I get to end with an even number of chapters. I have a thing about odd numbers if you must know. So unless an epilogue appears in my mental inbox, the last chapter will be the last. Thanks for reading, I do hope you are enjoying it!

PS. Thank you to darcy58 for his advice on dinner suits. I know nothing except what I wanted to see them in, so any mistakes are my own.


	10. What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

X. What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Jack and Ianto sat at the modern bar of the Park Plaza, sipping the most expensive scotch that Ianto had ever tasted and quite possibly ever would. It was like smoky honey that burned in the best of ways—and it was strong. Perhaps that was why, when the clock struck eight and the doors to the ballroom opened for the New Year's Eve banquet, Ianto gallantly offered his arm to Jack, who whimsically accepted it, and together they made their way toward the table they had been assigned at check-in.

The rich wood-paneled ballroom was stunning—dozens of tables surrounded a large dance floor, each set with stark white china on black tablecloths, intricate centerpieces proclaiming the new year with flowers and candles. The chairs were covered and ribboned, the chandelier turned low, and as Ianto led the way past a low stage set up at one end of the dance floor toward their table, he felt Jack lean in closer and whisper in his ear, "There's going to be a live band."

"Apparently," Ianto replied dryly.

"A big band," Jack continued excitedly.

Ianto pretended to study the stage. "Yes, it does look like it's going to be a rather large ensemble," he replied. Currently a jazz trio was playing soft dinner music as the guests entered.

"No, a swing band, with real instruments," Jack replied, either ignoring or completely missing Ianto's dry remark. "Not some loud rock band with six guitars and an amp."

Ianto held back a laugh; sometimes Jack was not just old fashioned in looks and dress.

"What's wrong with a rock band?" he asked.

"It's crap. This will be real music." They arrived at their table, where Jack pulled out Ianto's chair for him. "The last time I heard a live big band, I was stuck in 1941 with Tosh."

"From what I heard, that was a good time for you," Ianto replied, lowering his voice as a hint. 'Stuck in 1941' was not something for a table of strangers to overhear.

"It was," Jack admitted, "but now I get to experience it with you. I couldn't ask for anything better." He sat down and squeezed Ianto's hand under the table, and Ianto felt a rush of fondness for Jack's excitement, as well as an incredible gratitude to Tosh and the others; they really knew how to plan the perfect night for him and Jack.

Although the other tables were set for ten, there were only nine people at their own. Three young women about Ianto's age were already sitting and talking animatedly, cocktails in hand. They were obviously good friends celebrating New Year's Eve together, dressed in high style. Two other couples joined them soon after, and judging from their tired but enthusiastic manner, Ianto would bet money that they all had young children at home whom they were thrilled to leave behind with the grandparents for the evening.

Introductions were made all around. Both couples were friendly and polite, though they talked mostly between themselves at first, and mostly about their children; hopefully they would get over that once they started enjoying their night. The three women immediately started flirting with both Jack and Ianto, in spite of the fact that they were obviously there together. Ianto found he didn't mind. In fact, one girl, Catrin, reminded him very much of an old girlfriend from university he'd been fond of, and he enjoyed talking with her.

Appetizers were shared around the table and wine was poured; dinner was served slowly with even more wine while the jazz trio continued to play on stage. The five-course meal was exquisite down to the smallest detail, and the final course featured the most decadent chocolate torte Ianto had ever tasted, topped with caramel sauce and finely ground sea salt. Ianto couldn't remember the last time he had dined so well.

Three glasses of wine had him feeling quite relaxed, so when Jack leaned over and whispered '210' in his ear, he understood immediately, and it was all Ianto could do to keep himself from jumping up and following as Jack excused himself. He waited several minutes, continuing his conversation with Catrin—she was a PA with a local law firm, and he found their jobs were at least similar enough to complain about—before he too excused himself. Catrin's friend Megan raised an eyebrow at that, obviously understanding his exit while Catrin herself was quite clueless, and he simply gave her an innocent look in return before stepping out. He stopped at the loo in the lobby and hurried up to Jack's room. Either the wine or the perhaps the chocolate cake had got to Jack as well, because he met Ianto immediately at the door, and both their splashy dinner suits were quickly shed to great effect before they even reached the bed.

After cleaning up and dressing once more (Ianto was certain this was exactly why Tosh had booked Jack's room so close to the ballroom, though he wasn't sure whether to thank her or curse her), they returned to the party to find that dinner was officially cleared and the big band had moved onto the stage so that the dancing could begin.

They were playing an old standard, something Ianto recognized from hearing it around the hub during night's spent working (among other things) with Jack after the others had left. Cole Porter, perhaps, or Glenn Miller, one of Jack's favorites. Jack was grinning at the band, eyeing the dance floor with obvious excitement. Ianto couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited himself.

"They sound good," he said casually, hands in his pockets.

"Excellent," Jack agreed.

"Looks like it might even be fun."

Jack glanced at him in surprise. "Really?"

Ianto shrugged out of his jacket; it was already growing warm and would probably only increase as the crowd continued to drink and dance. He returned to their table, laid his jacket carefully over his chair, and poured himself a glass of water (more wine later) before turning to Jack.

"Really."

"Our last was a bit awkward," Jack pointed out. Which was unfortunately true, but it was also, Ianto hoped, behind them now, both literally and figuratively.

"That was just shuffling," Ianto replied. "Although I would have liked to practice for something like this if we had known."

Jack shed his coat as well and finished his wine. "But we didn't know, and we'll be fine. It's just dancing. Listen to the music, feel it, and it'll be perfect."

"Who leads?" asked Ianto pointedly. "I've only ever danced with a woman except for Gwen's wedding."

"I've danced with both, so I could lead," Jack said slowly. "But I'd prefer it to be more mutual—we lead together, follow one another's instincts. We do that anyway out in the field, why not on the dance floor?"

"Because there are no guns and aliens?" Ianto offered.

"Should be easy, then," Jack laughed, and Ianto smiled. Jack was right, and it made some sense even if it did go against everything he had learned and experienced about dancing growing up. As the next song started, Jack held out his hand, and Ianto accepted.

"We'll try it that way then, even if we end up stumbling around like idiots."

"At least we're good-looking idiots." Jack winked and walked them to the dance floor. It wasn't quite as crowded as Ianto suspected it would be later as more wine flowed and the band undoubtedly played more modern music.

The band had struck up a faster tune this time—Ellington, Jack said—and they took one another's hands, fumbling a bit where to place the other as equal partners. Finally Jack laughed and said, "Look, I know this music. Let me start, at least. We can take turns once you get the hang of it."

Ianto sighed and grumbled good-naturedly, trying not to feel like a stumbling idiot after all. Yet as Jack placed his hand on Ianto's waist and guided them around the dance floor, he slowly relaxed, beginning to enjoy not only the music, but also the feeling of yet another connection with Jack. If there were a few stares from some of the more conservative partygoers, he'd apparently had enough wine to mostly ignore them.

The next song was a ballad. "Gershwin," Ianto murmured, and Jack nodded in impressed approval that Ianto recognized the tune. He moved Ianto's hand to his waist and took the other to hold against his chest while placing his own free hand on Ianto's shoulder. So they would take turns, that worked—even if Ianto ended up with all the slow tunes. He pulled his partner close, Jack laid his head alongside Ianto's, and together they swayed to the delicate beauty of 'Embraceable You.' Ianto was fairly sure Jack was singing softly.

And he knew without a doubt it was one of the best dances of his life.

* * *

They danced a bit more before deciding to take a break. It had definitely grown quite warm in the room, and Ianto loosened his tie as they headed outside to the hotel bar for cooler air and a drink.

"What would you like?" asked Jack.

"Surprise me," said Ianto as they entered. "Something from the era." Jack grinned at him and motioned to one of the bartenders. The girls from their table were sitting at nearby, and Ianto headed over to join them, striking up a conversation while Jack waited for their drinks. Glancing over, Jack noticed that once again Catrin seemed most interested in Ianto, who couldn't help but exchange a subtle grin with her friends; they apparently hadn't had the heart to tell her what was really going on between him and Jack.

Jack joined them, slipping easily into the conversation and handing Ianto his drink. He took a small sip and grimaced slightly before nodding in surprise at the more pleasant aftertaste. "What is it then?" he asked.

"Dirty Shirley," Jack winked, sipping at something different, something he'd enjoyed at the time.

"And yours?"

"Sidecar," said Jack. He sighed happily as he took another sip. Ianto reached out for his glass.

"May I?" he asked, and Jack nodded. The Sidecar was apparently much more to Ianto's taste, and he reluctantly handed it back.

"I want that next time," he said.

"There will be champagne later," Jack pointed out.

"Brilliant," said Ianto. "Then we'll have both." Jack loved when Ianto was so relaxed.

The girls giggled as they sipped their Cosmopolitans. They chatted some more before Megan, a bold dark-haired beauty, suggested they all return to the party together. Finishing their drinks, Jack and Ianto followed, Catrin still by Ianto's side. Jack gave him a highly amused look that Ianto returned with a roll of his eyes. When they got to the dance floor, Catrin immediately claimed Ianto as her partner, while Jack danced with Megan and then Anna, the third friend. He and Ianto stayed close, however, exchanging small grins and winks that Catrin continued to miss.

The music had moved from the forties into the fifties and sixties; Ianto begged out when the disco tunes started and headed back to their table. One of the couples was sitting close together, watching the party and sipping wine, obviously content to simply relax and observe, and Ianto joined them, helping himself to another glass of wine. Jack continued dancing with the girls, though he was torn between wanting to stay and wanting to just sit and be with Ianto.

Glancing toward the table after a rousing rendition of a classic ABBA song, he noticed that Ianto had left. Frowning, he glanced around the room, trying to find his date, until he saw Ianto return from a desert table with a plate piled high enough with sweets for both him and Jack. Ianto flagged him down from the dance floor with a wave of the plate, and Jack joined him back at the table immediately, leaving the girls on their own with the apparently timeless yet eternally annoying 'YMCA.'

Jack popped a canoli into his mouth before he even sat down. "That's perfect," he said. "I needed a sugar rush to keep me going." The band started in on the eighties, and Ianto groaned before he stopped and suddenly sat up straighter, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

"Maybe we should take our private sugar rush back to your room for a while."

Jack glanced sideways at him then back at the band. "You don't like eighties music, do you?"

Ianto shrugged. "I was a kid, I had to listen to Rhi's play cassettes all the time and hated it. I do, however, like the thought of sharing that macaroon with you. In bed. Preferably naked."

"Ooooooh," said Jack, as if he had not really understood Ianto's unspoken intent, which of course was hardly the case; he just loved it when Ianto was the one to suggest something unconventional. Ianto rolled his eyes, picked up the plate, took Jack by the hand, and began to lead him out. Megan met them just as they were passing the dance floor.

"Again?" she laughed, and Ianto couldn't help but wink at her.

"We've got biscuits this time," he whispered conspiratorially.

"You'll be back, though?" she asked. "Catrin would be disappointed if you didn't come back."

"We'll be back," Ianto nodded. "Midnight toast and all that."

"Just find your friend someone else to kiss at midnight," said Jack, wrapping an arm around Ianto's waist. "This one's taken."

Megan grinned and shooed them away, and they somehow managed to sneak the entire plate of dessert up to Jack's room, where they took turns feeding it to one another in creative ways…among other things, of course.

Returning to the ballroom forty minutes later sans ties this time, they found the band in the middle of a blaring set of songs Ianto apparently remembered from his university years. Helping himself to another glass of wine, he took several sips before pulling Jack back onto the dance floor. This time neither one of them needed to lead, as the music flowed through them and they simply moved with it, sometimes grinding their hips together, sometimes dancing with the girls from their table, and always leaning in for frequent sloppy kisses until they were hot and breathless and laughing at the sheer ridiculous joy of it all.

It was a night of blissful abandon that Jack would remember for a long time—forever, because he could.

* * *

The band took a break before the set that would take them to the midnight toast. Jack and Ianto collapsed in their seats, waiting it out with a glass of water and catching their breath. The girls had gone back to the bar, and at least one of the couples appeared to have retired for the night, either exhausted or simply enjoying an uninterrupted night of spousal activity. The other couple was at the dessert table, feeding one another from the chocolate fountain. And so it was just them, and Jack pulled his chair closer to Ianto, and Ianto leaned against his shoulder, feeling pleasantly drunk on the wine and the music and the dancing. Jack wrapped an arm around him and kissed his temple as he was so often given to doing in those rare moments they shared alone.

"This has been one of the best dates I've had in a long time," he murmured, and Ianto glanced up at him and smiled.

"Me too. And to think that neither one of us planned it," he pointed out.

"I know. I wonder what that says about our dating skills."

"That they barely exist?" replied Ianto, holding back a sarcastic snort.

"I don't know," said Jack thoughtfully. "We could do this, come up with these sorts of things on our own."

"What sort of things?" asked Ianto.

"Dates—you know, actually going out." Jack laughed, shaking his head at the dubious look Ianto knew he was wearing. "And not just to the restaurant down the street or your flat. Movies, concerts, a rugby match?" Ianto stared at him.

"You want to go to a game?" he asked.

Jack shrugged. "I would, with you. Or, I don't know, a museum, an art gallery? Do you like art?"

"Sometimes," said Ianto, still slightly in shock at Jack's words. For months he had seemed content to simply do what they did: work at Torchwood and go out when they could. Moore often than not that was exactly as Jack had described it: a nearby restaurant, Ianto's flat, or even more rarely, a film they both wanted to see.

Jack pulled him closer, as if doing so would convince Ianto of his sincerity. "Maybe we could go away for a weekend—start local, of course, just in case we need to save the world, but then perhaps we could go to Paris, like Gwen and Rhys. Maybe Venice or Rome if the Rift really threw us a bone someday."

"Not going to happen," Ianto laughed.

"What, us traveling or the Rift letting us?" Jack sounded slightly disappointed by the skeptical amusement in Ianto's voice, so he tempered it with his reply.

"The latter, of course. But if the Rift ever does stay quiet for more than a weekend, I'd love to do all that with you, and more." He leaned forward to kiss Jack as convincingly as he could, so that Jack would know how much Ianto appreciated the fact that Jack was even thinking about a future together, yet alone making plans for it. He doubted it would ever happen, for too many reasons to think about about without despairing; they would have to be content with rare nights like this. They could always hope and dream and plan, but they both knew the reality of their lives at Torchwood.

"More, huh?" said Jack. He offered that half grin, half, leer that said Jack was definitely thinking something dirty, if not illegal, even in the middle of a rather serious conversation. So Ianto threw it back at him.

"As long as you can keep up," he murmured, and then pulled Jack to his feet as the band returned to the stage and began to play. They had gone back to the music they'd started the evening with, so that another Glen Miller tune started just as they reached the dance floor.

"About damn time they played this one," Jack muttered. Ianto tried to follow as best as he could, but he was getting tired, he'd had a lot to drink (not to mention a hell of a blowjob back in the room earlier), and he found himself thinking more about the future than the present until he hardly noticed the song had ended and Jack was laughing at him.

"Who's keeping up with who?" he teased. "I think someone is danced out." Ianto shrugged. It was true, but he didn't care. There were other things he'd rather be doing, after all, even if they should probably wait until after midnight. Then he had an idea, something he hoped would make Jack's night even more special.

"Toast is in a few minutes, how about pouring us some champagne?" Ianto suggested. "I promise you the next ballad, I think I can manage that."

Jack nodded and went back to their table, where several bottles of champagne and a tray of flutes sat waiting for the midnight toast. Ianto headed toward the band, hoping to catch them before the next song started. He made a quick request, which the pianist assured him was no problem once the toast was over and they began to close out the night. Ianto smiled to himself and went back to the table.

They watched the dancers silently as the clock ticked toward midnight. The band pulled up one last song before the countdown, and Jack dragged Ianto out for the ballad he had promised, not knowing there was a special one for later.

The sultry strains of "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" brought just about everyone to the dance floor. Jack murmured the words against Ianto's cheek as they danced, and Ianto let his eyes slip closed, content to simply sway against Jack's warm body.

"What are you doing New Year's—New Year's Eve?" he sang into Ianto's ear.

Ianto hummed a wordless response, prompting Jack to squeeze him a bit tighter. "What about next year?" Jack asked.

Ianto opened his eyes and gave Jack a raised eyebrow. "I'm serious," said Jack.

He considered it, then pressed a kiss to Jack's lips. "Maybe we can try St. David's next year. Or we make this a tradition."

Jack's smile could have lit up the room, and the fact that Ianto had done that would never fail to both frighten and amaze him. That Jack would dare to feel anything for him knowing how fleeting their relationship truly was—because it was a fleeting thing in Jack's long life, Ianto knew that perfectly well—was sometimes a miraculous thing to Ianto. As well as a tremendous responsibility: one day he would break Jack's heart, and he hated knowing that as well.

The song finished with a soft flourish, and the band sent everyone back to their tables for their champagne glasses before returning to the dance floor for the countdown. Ianto hated New Year's Eve countdowns, which was odd considering his affinity for the stopwatch in his pocket. They just felt so contrived, so forced. Yet he had to admit that, unlike last year, at least this year he had something to look forward to at midnight; he even had something to look forward to next year.

The crowd shouted down to zero, and Ianto stepped closer to Jack, raising his glass. Out of nowhere confetti fell around them and balloons filled the air. The band struck up 'Auld Lang Syne,' and after toasting (and occasionally kissing) everyone around them, Jack snaked a possessive arm around Ianto's neck and pulled him close for a kiss to start the new year.

It was a hell of a kiss, and Ianto was dimly aware of the girls from their table whistling and giggling nearby. Yet at that moment, nothing else mattered but Jack and that kiss.

* * *

Jack wished it would last forever, it was that perfect.

For the first time since Alex had destroyed Torchwood Three, Jack wasn't afraid of New Year's Eve. He had something to look forward to—some_one_ to look forward to. He tried not to think of the possibility that he and Ianto would not be around or together to celebrate the next year, because right then he just wanted to revel in the perfect moment and pretend that it really could last forever—the kiss, the night, their relationship, everything. Forever.

Yet all too soon the song ended, and the band struck up an upbeat beat tune that sent most of the crowd back to their tables. For a moment, Jack stood there gazing into Ianto's eyes, until Ianto nodded at some silent understanding that passed between them, and hand-in-hand they returned to their table.

The other couple immediately said good night and left. The three girls poured themselves more champagne and returned to the dance floor, officially three sheets to the wind by now. Once again Jack and Ianto had the table to themselves, but this time they were quiet as they finished their champagne, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

And then to Jack's surprise the band began one of his favorite songs, and Ianto stood, holding out his hand for one last dance. It had been over one hundred and thirty years since Jack had stood on a clock tower in London and danced with the girl who would lead him to the man who changed his life. Yet as he danced with Ianto, he felt his life changing once more, the soft sounds of 'Moonlight Serenade' flowing through his skin and into his heart until he buried his face in Ianto's shoulder so that the other man could not see his face as he struggled with so many emotions he thought he might burst.

Closing his eyes, he let the music sweep away old memories and replace them with new ones he would cherish just as much for as long as he lived.

* * *

"Thank you for the request," Jack murmured hoarsely as the song ended and a Gershwin tune filled the air. The irony of 'Someone To Watch Over Me' was not lost on Ianto, and he forced back any melancholy the song inspired. Jack had been very quiet during the Glenn Miller tune, and Ianto knew it had affected him deeply, so he didn't want to make it any worse; they were supposed to be celebrating after all.

"You're welcome," he said softly. "I know it's your favorite."

"Happy New Year," Jack hummed against his cheek as they continued dancing.

"You said that already."

"I know, but I really want it to be a happy new year for you."

"And for you, I hope."

"And for me. And…well, for us."

"For us." Ianto was barely moving now, unsure where Jack was going this time with his unusually candid sentiment; it was the second time that evening, and he'd barely made it through the first with his composure intact.

"Yeah, for us. Ianto?"

"Yes, Jack?" His heart was thumping wildly in his chest. No, not that, Jack couldn't possibly be thinking about…

"Are you happy?"

Ianto stepped back a bit and placed his forehead against Jack's as they danced, a wave of both relief and disappointment flowing through him. "Very much, Jack."

Jack pulled him close once more, pressed tightly against him, and Ianto could feel the other man's heart racing against his own. "Then please don't ever leave me," Jack whispered.

And even though Ianto wanted to say something like '_I'll try my best, sir', _he could only swallow hard and offer a watery smile as he felt tears prick at his eyes. Jack wasn't just talking about their relationship now, he was talking about much more, and there wasn't anything Ianto could do or say that would really make a difference in what they both knew to be the truth of it.

"I won't, Jack," he finally replied, his voice now hoarse as well. "I promise that I'll always be here." He placed his hand on Jack's heart, and Jack simply nodded as he held it, eyes bright. Ianto's words held a double meaning that they both understood perfectly well. And they both accepted it, as hard as it was during moments like this—moments Ianto wished he could share with Jack forever, moments he knew Jack would have to carry with him forever, no matter how much pain they caused him when the moment was over.

The band continued to play, but Jack and Ianto were barely moving now, wrapped closely against one another but lost in their own thoughts once more. In some ways, Ianto felt as if the night had come to a sudden, crashing end, worse than if a Weevil had run through the ballroom grunting and growling. He was determined to rescue it for them both.

Stepping away before the end of the song, he took Jack's hand and led them back to the table to pick up their jackets. He started singing quietly under his breath, somehow not surprised to find he remembered the words.

_"There's a somebody I'm longing to see," _he started, and heard Jack's breath catch in his throat.

"_I hope that he…turns out to be…someone who'll watch over me."_ They left the ballroom to the strains of the band playing behind them.

"I'll watch over you," Jack whispered. "As best and as long as I can."

Ianto nodded and continued, his throat tight as he leaned close to Jack and they walked arm-in-arm toward the lift. "_Won't you tell him please to put on some speed…follow my lead..,oh, how I need…someone to watch over me." _And though it was a very serious moment, a very beautiful song, Ianto winked, hoping to bring Jack out of his melancholy with the implication behind it.

"Your lead?" asked Jack, glancing up as if pretending to consider it. "As long as you lead me to your suite, Mr. Jones."

"Care to grab your gear first, Mr. Harkness?" Ianto asked, forcing the light tone. Jack grinned and nodded, and they stopped at Jack's room to collect his things before they made their way up to the suite that Tosh had reserved for them. There was no rush, no sense of the hurried desperation to be together from earlier, just the pleasant sense of anticipation of more to come. This would not be the quick shag from earlier in the night, or the rather kinky bit with the plate of dessert…this would be slower, more deliberate, more tender. Worth the wait.

As they entered the suite, Ianto noticed immediately that there was an envelope on the wet bar. Jack walked straight to the bedroom with his bag, but Ianto went to the counter, fingering the envelope curiously.

Inside he found a single photograph, obviously taken earlier in the evening in the ballroom. It was a picture of him and Jack, leaving the dance floor hand in hand, laughing and smiling and looking as if they didn't have a care in the world. And for a few hours that night, they'd had no cares but for each other: Ianto hadn't thought about the Rift, or the hub, or Torchwood once all night, until the very end, when the reality of their lives had unfortunately but inevitably clouded their celebration.

Turning the photograph over, Ianto found a simple message written in handwriting he recognized.

_A memory for you both, with many happy New Years to come._

Ianto shook his head and smiled to himself. Brilliant Tosh, offering one last gift for them after all she had done. Though he already cherished the incredible evening, now he could forever gaze at the joy they'd experienced, so rarely captured on film. The photograph stirred deep emotions within him, and Jack came out from the bedroom to find him still standing there, gazing down at the photograph, his mind whirling and his heart full. He passed it to the other man silently.

Jack stared down at the scene in his hands, a grin pulling at his lips before he set it down with the envelope and turned toward Ianto, taking his hand and wordlessly leading him to the bedroom. Ianto stopped just before entering.

"Jack, I—" He faltered, uncertain what he wanted to say, what he could say after all they had shared that night.

And yet as always, Jack seemed to understand, to somehow read Ianto's mind, if not his heart as well. Jack nodded, his voice thick when he finally spoke.

"I know," he said softly.

What it was exactly Jack knew, Ianto wasn't sure. Did he know how much Ianto cared, how much he treasured each and every moment with Jack? Did he know how much it frightened him sometimes, to feel so much for Jack when it could only end in heartbreak for them both? Did he know how guilty Ianto felt, carrying the burden of knowing he would leave Jack one day to deal with the heartbreak on his own?

Did Jack know what a strong, caring, amazing man he was, how lucky Ianto felt to have found him, regained his trust, earned his respect, shared even the smallest part of his long life with him in such an intimate way?

Did he know how much he was loved?

Ianto closed his eyes, shook his head, and smiled. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes again. "I hope so," he replied.

The look on Jack's face told him, without a doubt, that Jack did know—he knew without Ianto saying it, because saying it was not something they had done or would do—because saying it made it too real.

Yet to his forever surprise, Jack pulled him close and whispered three words in his ear, three words that Ianto never thought to hear, hardly dared to think, and would remember for the rest of his life. Three words that changed his world forever.

Another nod, a passionate kiss, an inviting grin.

"Happy New Year, Jack."

"Happy New Year, Ianto."

And it would be, because they were starting it together.

* * *

Author's Note:

The End. Really.

I suppose an epilogue with the entire team would be fun, but not after all this. I really, truly, honestly did not expect this story to run so long, nor to end quite like this. Which just goes to show that the characters dictate the story, not the author. Jack and Ianto deserved more from RTD, so I'm glad I was able to give them this night, this celebration of the love they clearly shared yet found it so hard to acknowledge and express.

The New Year's Eve party at the Plaza was all my own; I have no idea if they even have one, let alone what it might really be like, though I would dearly love to dance to Gershwin with a swing band someday.

Thank you so much for reading this. I really wish I'd finished it by New Year's Eve, but I do hope you enjoyed this a bit of post-holiday warmth. Let a girl know, yeah?

And those three words? Up to you, dear readers. Up to you. I know exactly what they are.


End file.
